Vicis Obduco
by acomplexgirlwithsimpletastes
Summary: She said she'd always love him. He said he'd marry her someday. It's funny how nothing works out like it's supposed to. / Sometimes it takes more strength to walk away.
1. Prologue

A/N: Time for take two, I think.

**

* * *

Vicis Obduco: Prologue**

* * *

When James Potter gets married, it isn't raining.

The skies are a clear, beautiful blue. In London, where it's usually raining. Even the gods have bestowed their gift on the couple.

The Church is jam-packed with friends and family. The crème de la crème of the Wizarding World is here: there sits the Minister of Magic, and Albus Dumbledore, and someone would swear later on that the infamous Nicholas Flamel was here, too. If you were for the Light, and you were important, you were here today.

Naturally, protection is at maximum. Undercover Aurors are spaced around the Church, watching carefully, the protective wards have been cast, and on a hidden alcove, Mad-Eyed Moody keeps watch.

And – the Church is beautiful. The theme is silver and blue. Calla lilies in vases litter the carpeted aisle; the ceiling is enchanted to look like the night sky; the musicians, an entire orchestra. No expense has been spared for this wedding that has been labeled the wedding of the century.

The Bridal March starts to play, and the doors to the Church open. Everyone stands up, and all heads turn to see the bride. She is resplendent in her custom-made gown, looking more beautiful than she ever has in her life. Her blonde hair is done up in a chignon, sapphires on her neck, ears and wrist, blue eyes sparkling happily, the dress simply flows and hugs her frame in all the right places. She looks gorgeous.

The groom looks at her, and smiles softly. Even though everyone else cannot take their eyes off the bride, his eyes wander over to a small entrance at the very back of the Church.

There is a stick thin woman with red hair standing there. She had not been standing there a few minutes ago. It seems as if she has appeared out of thin air. She wears simple clothes: jeans, and a plain black sweater, with no jewelry except for the silver watch that gleams on her wrist. She is pale, too pale, and is leaning on the wall. Her green eyes look at the bride in what seems to be amusement, and just then, her eyes wander over to the groom.

Their eyes lock.

She gives him a rueful smile, and he almost finds himself grinning back. The woman pushes herself off the wall and dusts off her hands, before taking one more look at the bride. She is halfway down the aisle, and no one has noticed their little exchange. The groom looks at her one more time and nods a small, imperceptible nod, and the woman did the same. Then she is gone.

James Potter watches as Lily Evans disappeared from his life yet again, before turning to look at his bride.

It is time to move on.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: **I did this chapter on a sudden whim, so forgive me if the dates are wrong. I might've messed it up due to my hastiness. Also, if you want to understand what's going on, please pay attention to details. Little things like eye, hair color, dates are... important. Annnd. Check this out:

_4:14:pm.12:01:1977_

This translates to four fourteen in the afternoon, on the first of January 1977.

Enjoy. :)

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**Vicis Obduco: Chapter One**

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Sometimes, Lily Evans dreams.

**.**

**.**

**September 1976**

**.**

**.**

Lily puts her book down to look at the boy who has just slipped quietly into the apartment. He stands in front of her and watches her back. "There are only two reasons you would be here, Potter. The first is not only highly improbable but also vexes me a great deal, so I'll pretend it's the second, and tell you this: This compartment is only for Head Students." She enunciates her words clearly, as if speaking to a dunce, and groans mentally when he reaches into his pocket. Dumbledore must be going loony.

He looks _almost_ apologetic as he pulls his badge out of his pocket. Except that twinkle in his eyes can't really be apologetic, can it?

**.**

**.**

Lily Evans did not hate James Potter anymore. There was a time when his mere presence would have sent her blood boiling, but that time had long ago passed. Still, heaven forbid she say that she liked him.

"We've had our differences in the past, Potter, but I think we should put them aside to make our job easier. We are Head Students and should act as such."

Potter surveys her with penetrating hazel eyes. It is an almost quizzical expression, as if he is trying to solve a particularly tricky puzzle. "I'm all for a truce, Evans." He pauses. "Just to 'make it easier,' wasn't it? Now if you don't mind, I'm going to unpack."

**.**

**.**

The second day back at Hogwarts is another rest day; a chance for the students to get back into school mode, not that people actually did use it for that. Lily and Alice are taking a walk around the Great Lake when Alice asks how James is doing as Head Boy.

"He's being eerily responsible. I don't know what to make of it." James had actually approached her after breakfast with a list of suggestions for the passwords for the Prefects' Washrooms, and a proposed list of assignments for patrols.

Alice subdues a smile. "James _is_ responsible, when he wants to be."

Lily bites her lip. "Do you notice anything different about him? I dare say he's become rather… cold."

"It probably has something to do with his mother's death last year."

She had always thought of Potter as a rival, or an enemy, and hadn't thought of his family – ever. She had heard how the Potter family was a long line of Purebloods, of course, but didn't know much more that. "Oh, that's terrible. Was she sick?"

"No, it was old age, I think. She and James were really close, and he took it really hard when she passed. His parents were quite old you know, when they had him," Alice says with a shrug, picking up a flat stone. "He was considered a miracle baby, so they spoiled him rotten." She tosses it into the lake. It skips only twice before sinking.

Lily didn't know what to make of this piece of information. What if her parents had spoiled her and she had grown up to be everything Potter was? She knows – because she is not into self-delusion – that he is good-looking, top of their class and Quidditch Captain. He is easily one of the most well-liked and well-known people in the school, and has a fan club full of girls who squeal just at the sight of him. Wouldn't she be just the same as Potter, if she were he? And really, wouldn't she be sort of justified?

"What are you thinking?"

Lily has to laugh at Alice's curious expression. "I was just thinking about Potter. I can see why he was the way he was."

There is a small pause as Alice takes the time to pick up another stone and toss it again. "He isn't arrogant now."

Lily watches the stone skip four times before sinking. "He's changed a lot, hasn't he?"

This time, Alice's smile is wistful. "I think we all have."

**.**

**.**

When Lily comes in late from the Library, she is not surprised to see Potter resting on the couch, lazily scrawling some things on a piece of paper. He is a Marauder, and past-midnight trysts are expected. Lily Evans, however, is supposed to be a strict law enforcer, as well as a girl who practiced what she preached.

He raises an eyebrow when he sees her, and she automatically is on the defense.

"I had to do some research for Professor Slughorn, and it's easier to do when it's quiet."

"Don't be so defensive, Evans," he chides, "I was simply going to say hello."

Lily snorts.

His eyes spark liquid fire, and his lips quirk.

And they stare at each other for a few more seconds.

This is how it has always been with James Potter. First, they were members of the opposite sex; then rivals for first in class; then he developed a crush that manifested itself in the most idiotic of ways and he was a scorned boy, while she was an embarrassed girl; then he retreated and they were bitter rivals. And now, Lily could not define their relationship even if she was held at gunpoint.

"I'm going to bed," she says suddenly, tearing her eyes away from his. "Night, Potter."

"I didn't think you'd retreat so easily," he calls after her.

She doesn't bother answering.

**.**

**.**

Potter and she have not had much contact since that meeting during the first week of school. They are practicing their amiability so well that people are starting to wonder what they are trying to hide. Their movements are too polite and too fluid to be natural. It is inevitable that they will clash heads soon. These past few days are simply the calm before storm, and she is preparing herself for a battle.

The portrait door to the Head Dorm slams shut.

"Why did you say yes to Brian Creevy?"

And here it is. Lily is sitting on a desk facing the window, and cannot see him. She doesn't look up from her book, although her grip visibly tightens. "Why is it any business of yours?"

There is a pause. Lily can almost feel his stare boring into her back. "You're right. It isn't. I apologize."

_That was unusually quick_. She hears some shuffling and a sinking noise she takes to mean he has collapsed on the couch.

They sit in silence for the next thirteen minutes, reading their respective books in their respective parts of the room. Something masochistic in her speaks up before long, and she finds herself saying, "Brian Creevy is a nice guy."

Potter doesn't skip a beat. "He is."

"What do you have against him?"

"Nothing, aside from the fact that he isn't good enough for you."

She scoffs and turns to face him. "And what, you are?"

Potter's face is so cold that it is no wonder most people are terrified of arousing his tempter. He doesn't look human when he is angry. "No. But personal bias aside, Brian Creevy is nowhere near good enough for you. You are too smart not to know that, so I really have to wonder why on earth you even considered his ludicrous proposal."

**.**

**.**

The following morning, Lily wakes up feeling highly unsettled. She storms into the Great Hall. "Don't talk to me please," Lily says flatly as she slides in beside her best friends. She fills her plate with eggs, bacon and cream tarts before pouring orange juice into her cup. She puts ketchup on her eggs and mashes them well. "Do you think Brian Creevy isn't good enough for me?"

"Yes."

"Dorcas!" Alice hisses.

Lily looks up. "He's a nice guy. Why do people think he isn't good enough?"

"Because he isn't James Potter," Dorcas says, leaning over to nick a tart from Lily's plate. "You can prance around the issue as much as you want, but it doesn't negate the fact that you belong together. I have to go; Quidditch practice. James is a brutal captain, and hates it if we're late." She hops off the bench cheerfully, waving at her friends and dashing off to the field.

"That girl has no sense of tact whatsoever," Alice mutters angrily.

Lily pushes the eggs around the plate, a vague smile on her face.

Alice leans over to look at Lily. "Are you okay?"

Lily snorts, before looking up at her best friend. "Would you be surprised if I told you I wasn't the least bit surprised to hear that?"

"Which part?" Alice questions cautiously.

"Dorcas' part."

Alice stares at Lily, who is making her eggs into eyes and her bacon strips into a smiling mouth. "Well, are you okay with that?"

"I don't know."

**.**

**.**

**Present Day**

**.**

**.**

_2:31:am.12:05:1979 _

_Paris_

Gaspgaspgasp

Green eyes fly open in the middle of the night. She stumbles over to the bathroom and splashes water on her face. It's all so real and she's sick of it. She doesn't want to have crazy dreams anymore, because it's in the past. She lives in the present. She dreams of the past.

She looks in the mirror and the face there has not changed dramatically over time.

She has learned that although things change, you can hide it really well if you try hard enough.

She still has red hair and green eyes and pale skin and she's still as thin as ever, but she's different.

Inside, she's different.

There's hardness in her that wasn't there before, a tendency to be quiet and to listen instead of to share, an immediate sixth sense to strange things and an always-present awareness of her surroundings. She's stronger and faster and better in casting spells and she's an accomplished liar. She's placed her past behind her so well. She's moved past her memories.

But outside, no one notices a thing.

She's still just Lily Evans, with green eyes and red hair and a pale face.

So of course, no one notices that she hasn't really moved past her memories. No one notices that behind that outside's inside, there is an inside that yearns for a past.

All these things are really just small little cracks in between, which have been covered up so well that no one even noticed their existence anymore. Sometimes, even she forgot.

Even she forgot.

But she didn't always forget. Sometimes, she remembered what it had been like and she cries herself to sleep. Sometimes, she remembers the vague flashes she tries to repress coming back to her ever so easily and she just longs for it. She's desperate for it.

But most of the time the cracks were hidden in the background and no one noticed.

It had been two years today that Lily Evans had disappeared from Hogwarts without a trace.

Life had changed much since then.

**.**

**.**

_6:08:am.12:05:1979_

_Paris_

She wakes up at exactly six a.m. in the morning. She is dressed by 6:04 and she had eaten by 6:07. The door is flung open and a blonde haired man smirks at her.

She doesn't say anything, really, just looks up at him and sighs. "You're late."

"Come on, Evans. We've got work to do," Gavinsky drawls.

"Shut it, tosser," she mutters, walking out of the room.

"You know the saying, don't you? People to be, places to see." He laughs at the irony.

Sometimes people found things like that funny. She did too, sometimes. But she didn't today. Today, she remembered last night vividly. Today, she could not forget. Today, things were different.

_A buzz sort of rang and she closed her eyes and she was there, alone, and she heard screaming somewhere, but with a slight flick of her wand it was silenced. "Shut up," she snarls. They cower in fear. "And listen, you incompetent fools. Our Master demands that we meet tonight, at midnight in the usual place."_

_A chorus of yeses resounded and there was that elastic snap again and they were back. _

"How are you feeling today?" Gavinsky asks, grinning.

"I'm not going to let reality ruin it for me," she says dryly, clenching a fist that was stained with a single drop of blood.

"Good. We still have a lot of work to do."

"People to be, places to see," she intones, and he laughs.

Life could be so easily forgotten when she had a job like hers.

Life _could_ be forgotten.

**.**

**.**

_4:14:pm.12:01:1977_

_Hogwarts_

"What do you want to be?" They are sitting next to the Great Lake and Sirius is telling a funny story or other and their friends are all laughing.

She looks up at him. He looks like he's sleeping. "Auror."

"And you're sure?"

"Yes. I never had a doubt. Why?"

He shrugs. "Curious."

"You?"

He twists a strand of red hair around his finger absently. "Auror."

She frowns at his tone. It's too cavalier, too passé, like it isn't important because he doesn't truly have a choice. "Do you want to be an Auror?"

"That's what's needed."

She sits up. "You don't want to be an Auror?"

James chuckles at her alarm before leaning against the trunk of the tree, simultaneously pulling at the knot of his tie. "It's what's needed. We all have a duty."

"I hate this war," Lily whispers suddenly.

His eyes open and he snakes an arm around her waist, pulling her against him. She leans in and presses her cheek to his shoulder. He gives a funny half-smile and they watch as Sirius pokes Pearson's tummy and Alice squeals as Frank spins her around; they watch as Remus snorts and Peter sleeps and Marlene ruffles Sirius' hair.

Reality could wait for a while.

**.**

**.**

_6:07:am.12:05:1979_

_Paris Headquarters_

Lily does not understand this. "Why am I needed in London? It isn't time yet."

Sara Fournier, the head of their team, shrugs. She is old, and a bit gray, but appearances are oh-so-deceiving, because Sara could kill Lily if she wanted to. "Moody has requested you and Penelope. So off you go, mon petit etudiant."

"And why isn't Gavinsky needed yet?" Lily demands, shooting her partner an irritated look.

"It doesn't have anything to do with the charade. It's an on the side, but still important, job," Sara says, scanning some paperwork on her desk. "You will receive your mission briefing when you get there."

Lily sighs and mutters a spell. It is a red haired woman with brown eyes who vanishes from the room without another word.

Sara moves some papers aside before staring at the newspaper. The news has reached France, already. "Mon dieu," she sighs, "Lily shall be in for a shock, I think."

Gavinsky looks up from where he was fiddling with his wand to stare at the newspaper. "Isn't that…?"

Sara stares almost forlornly at the perfect looking couple in the newspaper. "Oui."

Gavinsky sits down. "Well." He pauses for a minute, thinking of the state Lily will come back in. The apartment will be, he thinks sadly, completely trashed. "Merde."

**.**

**.**

_6:08:am.12:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

"I cannot believe I am back here again," Lily mutters. She makes her way through the corridors, keeping her head down, and weaving through people quickly. "This assignment had better be good."

"It will be; I can tell."

Lily throws her friend, who has appeared out of thin air, without even the usual 'pop' of an apparition, a grin. "Where did they pull you from?"

"I was actually here already, working on something for Hayden," Penelope Turner says, bumping shoulders with her friend. "And you?"

Penelope is part seventy-five year old wise woman and part seven-year-old bubble gum chewing crazy girl. She had accepted a position on the team a year before Lily had, and had been friends with Lily almost instantaneously.

"France."

Penelope pops her bubble gum. "What's your name, again? I keep forgetting, what with you changing skins all the time."

"Notice the lighter shade of red and the brown eyes."

Penelope frowns. "Er. Is this the Jane Wickham 'I'm-a-macho-woman-who-can-drink-you-under-the-table' one?"

"It's Anna Evans," Lily sighs.

They push the door open just as Penelope says sorry, but she honestly can't be expected to keep up with Lily's many aliases. And also, can you be Jane Wickham more often, because I find her cool?

"What is it now, boss?" Penelope says, popping another bubble.

Alastar Moody turns to look at them. He seemed angry about something. But then, Moody was always angry about something. It was almost impossible to please the man. "Have you explained?" he demands of Penelope.

"Oh." Penelope's demeanor changes quickly. She spits out her gum and turns to look at Lily. "Not yet."

"Not yet what?" Lily says warily.

"Listen, Lil, have you read the paper recently?"

Lily is sure that she does not like Pen's tone. It's taken on the seventy-five year old wise woman tone. "Not of late."

"Okay." Penelope takes her hand. "I'm going to show you something, and I do not want you to freak out on me, okay?"

"Just show me."

Moody wordlessly hands Penelope the newspaper, and Penelope keeps in behind her for a while, gauging Lily's face. "It's bad."

Lily is not sure what is happening here. Moody is wearing the strangest look on his face, and Penelope is being eerily… careful. She narrows her eyes. "How bad?"

"Well," and here Penelope swallows. "Um. Do you remember James Potter?"

**.**

**.**

_6:32:am.12:05:1979_

_Paris Headquarters_

Someone outside the room starts shrieking curse words so loudly that even Gavinsky has to wince. Sara looks at her door in fear. "Qui ira?"

"Me," he says with a wince. "I'm… used to her theatrics."

Sara throws him a warning, a plead, or some strange mixture of both. "Be gentle with her. I don't know what happened between those two, but whenever… well. We all know what happens when we mention her past."

"Yes," the blonde sighs. "I do."

**.**

**.**

_6:31:am.12:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

Her first thought is: I have to get away from here.

And the second one is: Why?

And then: He promised.

And then again: He _promised_.

And finally: well, so did you.

And then. She cries.

**.**

**.**

_6:32:am.12:05:1979_

_Paris Headquarters_

Mark Gavinsky is a Scottish man-whore. He and Lily Evans had been partnered off when they were seventeen. They had been through thick and thin, and on a good day, they could be called friends. _Bonded by trauma_, they'll add quickly, shooting each other dirty looks. They called each other by their last names and usually pissed each other off. However, when push came to shove – which it often did – they had each other's backs. Always.

So once Lily saw Mark, she threw her arms around him and cried.

"It'll be okay," he murmurs, patting her hair soothingly. Although honestly: it wasn't okay. It was not okay that newspapers all over the Wizarding World have count-downs for the wedding of James Potter and Pearson Cooper. It just… wasn't.

**.**

**.**

_7:08:am.12:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

"I apologize sir," Lily says, taking the folder with one page in it. "I let my personal life cloud my judgment. It won't happen again. "

Alastor Moody stares at her. Her eyes are red and her cheeks are red, and she has clearly been crying. Lily Evans is a bit too full of life to be in this job, he thinks. This job reeks of death and sacrifice and sadness and – well, she _accepted_. It was her fault. Still, he takes pity on her and says: "Take the day off, Evans."

"Sir – "

"I said take the day off!" he barks.

She offers him a small smile before vanishing.

**.**

**.**

_10:56:am.12:05:1979_

_London_

She stares at the beautiful robes that were priced ludicrously high.

She enters the shop.

Lily wonders what it was like to have nothing to worry about and to just think about robes. She'd like that, sometimes. It was so pathetic, but she'd like to just live a life where she didn't have to be in the midst of a war. There would be no hard decisions, just waking up and dressing up and lying around and eating scones.

But as the fantasy unravels, she scoffs.

Was that even living? Lily Evans would never be able to just do that, to just hang around and relax.

She wasn't made for it.

So she gives herself a rueful smile, wondering what on earth possessed her to enter this shop. She could afford these luxuries, with the money she made, but – she sighs, and plucks an ice blue robe off the rack. It would match her one of her alias' eyes. She gives the cashier the robes, and then forks over the galleons.

"I understand that, Pearson, but what on earth are we even going to do with twenty-four glass cherries that change colors magically depending on the season?"

The voice was exasperated and amused.

She freezes. She knew that voice. She knew that voice very well.

"I don't know, James, but there are just so many people asking what we want. By the Wedding Planner's count, we're already going to be given ten sets of dining ware, three living room and dining room sets, various clothing and book sets, and I think your father is going to give us a freaking house on the coast of France."

This voice is also dead familiar and rather irritated and incredulous.

She slowly pulls her hood up casually.

"Can't you tell them their presence is enough or something?"

"I'd like to see you try to tell Harold McKinnon that no, we don't want another set of dining ware, please, we just want you there. They'd have a coronary, James!"

"I just don't know what on earth we're going to do with all this junk."

Lily takes deep breaths. She relaxes and takes the bag from the cashier. Slowly, she turns around and starts walking out of the shop when the cashier's voice interrupts her.

"Have a nice day, Miss Evans!" she says, cheerfully.

The other two people in the shop turn, slowly, to look at her, their eyes hopeful and desperate, but scared, too.

She simply looks back at the cashier, skipping her eyes over her former best friends and looked at the brunette. Then she smiles. "I will. Thanks."

Then she pushes open the door and leaves.

**.**

**.**

_11:01:am.12:05:1979_

_London_

She walks along the pavement hurriedly.

She was just about to turn the corner when she heard it.

"WAIT!"

Shite.

She continues to casually walk forward, as if she hadn't heard the loud yell and she was so close to an alley and she could just disappear -

A hand is placed on her shoulder and she finds herself looking at blue eyes.

"Hi," Pearson says hurriedly, looking apologetic. "Sorry, but we were just wondering, you know, if you're related to anyone named Lily Evans? Or if you knew her?"

"Oh, sorry, no." She smiles apologetically.

Pearson deflated right on the spot and she looked down. "Right. Well, I'm sorry for having bothered you."

"Have you lost her in the crowd; this Lily Evans, I mean?" she asked politely.

Pearson looks pained. "No, we've- "

"We've been looking for her for the past two years."

James Potter steps into her line of vision.

She clenches her fist. And pretends to look shocked. "If you don't mind me asking, what happened to her?"

"She disappeared," Pearson mutters.

"That's - horrible. I'm sorry. I wish you luck. My name's Anna Evans, by the way." She gives a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Anna. I'm James Potter - and this is my fiancée, Pearson Cooper."

I'm James Potter, and this is my fiancée, Pearson Cooper.

This is my fiancée, Pearson Cooper.

Fiancée, Pearson Cooper.

Pearson Cooper.

**.**

**.**

_8:38:pm.27:01:1977_

_Hogwarts_

"I'll marry you someday," he jokes, "just because you can cook so well."

She laughs. "I'll hold you to that promise, James Potter."

"Don't worry, Evans," and his eyes looked funny, "I'll keep it."

**.**

**.**

_11:03:am.12:05:1979_

_London_

"I'm sorry," she laughs. "Your names are rather familiar."

They look almost embarrassed and shrug.

"Thank you so much, Anna," Pearson says warmly. "It must have been… funny to have this conversation." She pauses to scrutinize her. "You almost look like her, you know. Lily, I mean. She had red hair too, and green eyes."

She bites her lip awkwardly. James is staring at her now and there is that furrow of his brow that is a tell-tale sign that he is thinking. He looks like… he knows. He looks like he bloody knows something is wrong.

Pearson smiles at her. "It was nice to meet you."

They exchange goodbyes and she hurries away without another look back. But her senses are screaming that someone is boring holes into her neck, and she cannot shake the feeling that James Potter felt the static they felt when they were around each other.

Using the alias Anna Evans in London will, sadly, not be an option anymore.

**.**

**.**

_8:38:pm.27:01:1977_

_Hogwarts_

"I'll marry you someday," he had joked, "just because you can cook so well."

She had laughed and thrown a towel at his head. "I'll hold you to that promise, James Potter."

"Don't worry, Evans. I'll keep it."

It was just a light joke, teasing, even. But behind the joke there was a tiny crack that screamed that it wasn't just a joke.

It wasn't a joke at all.

**.**

**.**

_12:15:pm.12:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

James Potter stares at the numerous folders with all the names of all the people in the Wizarding World. He stares at the database with names that number more than three hundred thousand – and thinks: _There is no Anna Evans here. _There was something off about that girl. She was too smooth, too perfect and practiced to be real. She knew something about Lily; he knew it. He just couldn't quite place her, but something was niggling at him, telling him that he knew her from somewhere, that she could help, that she had answers.

He rubs his face wearily, and plucks out the folder that says _Evans, Lily Avery_.

It's a relatively thick folder. Most of it is filled with newspaper clippings. But if you go back far enough, there are grade sheets, her O.W.L.s, her N.E.W.T.s copies of letters from Hogwarts, letters of recommendation, her application to the Auror Program and a letter of acceptance into the Program. He plucks out the very first newspaper clipping.

**Hogwarts Head Girl Vanishes Without a Trace**

The headlines grow direr as he flips through them.

**Muggleborn Lily Evans Disappears, Foul Play Expected**

**Where Did She Go? **

**No New Leads on Hogwarts Head Girl's Vanishing**

**Head Girl Missing for One Month**

**Hogwarts Graduating Ceremony Almost Somber After Head Girl Disappearance**

**Lily Evans Declared Missing For Three Months Today**

**Evans Missing For One Year, Presumed Dead**

He tosses the folder aside to run his hands through his hair.

Where the fuck did she _go_?

He's getting married in a less than a week to another girl. How can he even be _thinking_ of doing that, when he still can't let Lily go? He needs closure; he needs peace of mind. Lily wasn't dead, her body wasn't found anywhere, so where did she go, and more importantly, why?

Why did you go, Lily? Why did you leave?

**.**

**.**

_3:00:pm.12:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic_

The phone rings, and after two rings, someone picks it up. "Hello."

"This is James Potter. I need you to find someone for me."

**.**

**.**

* * *

_Feedback is always appreciated. :) _


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: I suck, I know. Three chapters in two years. Who does that? Um... yeah. :/ I was inspired by the review and favorite story notices that were entering my inbox. Nothing inspires me to write more than knowing that readers like my work enough to fave or review it. You all rock. :)**

**ENJOY!**

* * *

**October 1976**

**.**

**.**

"Brian? Can I talk to you for a second?"

**.**

**.**

Dorcas had wanted to practice some Quidditch, and Lily had needed some air, so they ended up just staring at the sky together. "Lily, can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"I'm glad you told Brian Creevy you couldn't go out with him," she says quietly – a strange thing, for Dorcas.

After a few seconds of silence: "I'm glad you told me about Potter."

"I really meant what I said."

_You belong together_. "I know." And some part of her thinks that she has always known that, too.

**.**

**.**

It is a Hogsmeade weekend, and Lily Evans is sitting alone in the Common Room, curled up on the couch and staring at the fire.

The door opens and closes, and James Potter sinks down in the couch across from her. She glances at him from the corner of her eye, and he looks absolutely shell-shocked. Oh, the new James Potter is certainly difficult to read, but it is the minutest shifts in his facial muscles that mean things, and the tilt of his eyebrows tells her everything she needs to know. She doesn't know when she became so acutely aware of him, but she thinks that maybe, in some way, she has always been mindful of James Potter.

"You turned Brian Creevy down," he says quietly.

"I did."

He stays quiet, and almost brooding.

"It had nothing to do with what you said," she lies. _Liar!_ A voice in her head screams. It had everything to do with what he said, and what Dorcas said, and what Alice said; it had everything to do with what she felt when she was with him. James Potter got under her skin like no one else. He made her so angry, so embarrassed, so full of hatred, she thought she would scream. Before, she did. James Potter, more than any person she had ever known, made her feel alive. It had everything to do with the fact that things had changed, and she was realizing that James Potter was so much more to her than she had ever thought possible.

But because she is scared, and ridiculously human, she lies.

**.**

**.**

They are seated in the library.

Dorcas stares at Lily. Then she stares at Alice. Then she looks at the next table, where Sirius is talking urgently with Remus and Peter, and James is staring out a window.

"I can't handle this."

Lily and Alice look up.

"What did you do to James?"

"I didn't _do_ anything to Potter."

Dorcas groans in frustration. "We had Quidditch practice today. You know what James did? He told Sirius to captain the squad, because he wasn't feeling up to it. When is James not up to captaining the squad? James Potter loves Quidditch, and is the best Quidditch Captain we have ever had," she says vehemently. "I'll ask you again: what did you do to him?"

The conversation halts when James stands up abruptly to leave the Library. Much to the consternation of many, Lily Evans stands up and follows him.

**.**

**.**

He stops in a long, empty corridor. "What do you want, Evans?"

"Do you love me?" The words echo in the corridor, over and over again. They slip out of her mouth without her thinking about them, and she thinks that this is the question that has been on her mind for ages: does James Potter truly love her? Does he really? Or is it a joke, a game, a fantastically well-thought out ploy to drive Lily Evans mad? Now that the words are out, she doesn't regret them. She _wants_ to know the answer. Maybe this is one of the most important questions she will ever ask anybody. James Potter and she have had a relationship that she could never truly understand. Mostly because she never understood James Potter. She needs to know; she needs to hear it, because she thinks – no, she knows – she knows the answer, but she needs to hear it from him. It's written on every single line of his face when he looks at her, it's practically screamed by his actions, and hers, and everyone around them when they look at each other. But she wants to hear him say it.

He turns around to stare at her. Even if she can read him so well, she cannot read this face at all. And then suddenly, she can. This face is tired, horribly tired. In a gentle tone, like he knows this news will change (break) her, he says: "I tried not to. But you can't really tell yourself who to fall in love with, can you?"

**.**

**.**

That night, alone the safety of her bedroom, Lily Evans thinks.

She thinks about who she is, and what she is. She thinks about what she used to be, what she is, and what made her into what she was. She thinks about relationships and people and the eccentricities of life. And she thinks about James Potter, and what he was and is to her.

She realizes, almost sadly, that she loves him. She is in love with James Potter.

She loves him because he made her who she was, and made her life what it was, and shaped her in such a way that she was ruined for anyone else. And she loves him simply because she _does_, because she always has and she knows she always will.

**.**

**.**

**Present Day**

**.**

**.**

_1:31:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris _

"Meeting."

Lily Evans rolls out of bed.

**.**

**.**

_1:34:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris Headquarters_

A set of doors opened to reveal nine people sitting around a table.

Lily and Gavinsky settle into their seats on either side of Sara.

"We have received the intelligence reports," Sara says gravely, eyes skimming over all ten members.

The atmosphere in the room plummets.

"They are planning simultaneous attacks at the end of the week, during the Potter Wedding."

Lily curses mentally. Of course attacks must be planned; it was the perfect time to pull it off. Everyone would be expecting Death Eaters to attack the wedding, so security would be at its maximum, and other areas would not be guarded as heavily as normal. Something didn't add up, though: why hadn't she found out? Her eyebrows furrow. If the Death Eaters had been planning attacks, she would have been informed. Before she can speak, Gavinsky does.

"But that doesn't make sense. Evans and I haven't been informed," Gavinsky says, his voice thick with tension.

"Maybe you're out of the loop," Keira Jansen tosses in. "I have it first hand from Crabbe."

Assents from three others follow, each of them tossing in the name of their informant.

Sara looks around the room severely. "We cannot afford to be mistaken about this. Lily, Mark – are you certain you never heard anything?"

"I checked in two days ago," Lily says softly. "There was nothing."

"This is ridiculous: four of us have proof," Sandy Olympus protests.

Penelope pops her gum. "Sounds like four of you have been duped," she shrugs cavalierly.

Lily feels the wheels begin turning in her head. "Who informed you?"

"Crabbe, Goyle, McCluskey and Greyback."

"None of them are in the Dark Lord's inner circle," Lily says slowly. She stares at her comrades. "Is it possible that any of you have been found out?"

There is a long silence.

Suddenly, Keira closes her eyes. "Oh, my God," she whispers. "Yes. _Shit_. I think Goyle might have seen me curse Malfoy when we were in the attack last month. But I had a conversation with him right after, and he was perfectly normal. Plus, I thought he was too idiotic to ever notice and do anything about it."

Lily has to grip the table hard to keep from screaming at Keira that her 'I thought' was going to get them all killed.

"Keira, you and Sandy are partners: so if you were found out we assume Sandy was implicated in this, too; and the Knotts are very close with the Casket brothers, so Ren and Scott were found out that way, too." Sara is calculating. "I want you four to pull out of Operation C completely, and work in the background as a support group."

"This is going to be a lot harder: they'll be more conscientious now," Penelope observes.

Sara closes her eyes. "Evans, Gavinsky, Turner, Plank, Piandre, Clayton: I want you on Operation C full time. I do not want any of them to have any reason to doubt you. Do you understand?"

"Sara, I can't: I have the special assignment for Moody."

"After the Wedding, I want you on this full time, Evans. Gavinsky, make excuses for your wife. The Potter Wedding is in three days," she says softly. "Plenty of lives are in danger. We need that data. Go."

**.**

**.**

_1:59:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris_

Lily, Gavinsky and Penelope apparate back to Lily's apartment, after Penelope makes plans to rendezvous with her partner, Piandre, later.

Lily collapses on a chair and stares at her hands.

Penelope immediately kicks off her shoes before Indian sitting on the Dining Room table. "I hate her."

Lily shoots her friend a look.

"I don't care if I'm being juvenile," Penelope whines. "Because of Keira's carelessness, the entire Operation is in danger."

"Surely not the entire operation," Lily protests.

"Penelope's right," Gavinsky says tersely. "The Ministry depends on us to retrieve the information they need, even if they don't know it. Because of Jansen's slip with Crabbe, everyone is going to be even more suspicious." He shakes his head. "It's going to be a lot harder to relay information now."

Lily sighs, pressing her fingers into her temples. She feels a headache coming on. "There's nothing we can do about it. Keira made a mistake. It was a stupid mistake, one that could very well cost us our lives. But we knew what we were getting into when we were recruited. Death isn't the worst thing that could happen."

They all stay quiet for a while.

"Lily, are you okay?" Penelope whispers. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Sensing that maybe Penelope should handle this alone for a while, Gavinsky leaves the room, muttering, "I'll get the tequila."

"No, and not really."

Penelope leans down to hug her friend, pressing her lips against her cheek. "I'm so sorry."

"I just – Pearson was my friend, you know? We weren't that close, but we were friends. And James…" she swallows. "Well, he's James Potter," she says helplessly.

Penelope pulls back and studies her face carefully, wiping the tears that have fallen. She laughs sadly. "Evans, why did you enter this business? You don't belong here any more than Gavinsky belongs in a candy shop. You had too much to live for."

But Lily doesn't answer, and she doesn't need to answer: duty. Duty to the cause that held them all bound, that made them all willing to sacrifice their lives if it meant those they loved would live in a better (safer) world. Although for some of them, accepting their recruitment invitation had been something they had done because they had had nothing else. "I thought maybe I could get over him," she whispers. "I thought that I could make an exchange: my life for his happiness."

Gavinsky reemerges with three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. He sets them on the table and starts to pour. Lily watches the liquid splash on the table, and finds that she doesn't really care.

"Can we please not talk about it?"

"Not talking about it doesn't make the problem disappear, Lil," Penelope says gently.

"If I don't think about it, it doesn't hurt so much," Lily whispers, closing her eyes.

There is another long silence.

"We are all so fucked up," Gavinsky sighs, handing them each a shot of tequila.

"Amen," Penelope and Lily say, lifting their shot glasses into the air with a clink.

**.**

**.**

_6:01:am:13:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

Not wanting to attract attention, Lily moves through the corridors as Anna Evans quickly. Anna is a common entity in the Ministry. Her presence will not be questioned. Jane Wickham's will. She enters Moody's office, before changing her appearance to someone utterly unrecognizable.

"Reporting for duty, sir," Jane Wickham says.

Alastor Moody's eyes flicker. "Evans, who are you masquerading around as now?"

"Jane Wickham, sir."

He rolls his eyes, and the sight of two eyes rolling in different directions is so distracting Lily almost chuckles. "Right, then. Port key. I want the entire Church warded and charmed so much that if a Death Eater even approaches the place, they'll spontaneously combust," he says gruffly.

"Spontaneously combust; got that, sir," Lily says.

If Alastor Moody had been a different man, he would have smiled. "Dismissed."

**.**

**.**

_6:03:am.13:05:1979_

_London_

"Mr. Potter, we have the information you requested on Anna Evans."

"Go ahead."

"The only records found are unlimited shopping accounts in certain shops in London. They aren't only hers, though; they are joint accounts among ten people. The account itself traces back to The Paris National Bank."

"What has been bought?"

There is a small pause. "It is a variety of things, Mr. Potter. I could owl the list over to you now."

"Just read it," he says with a touch of impatience.

"Underwear, figgs, owls, salamanders, eyeballs of newts, thirteen broomsticks, four cloaks, plenty cauldrons – shall I go on?"

"Is there anything particularly unusual?"

"Well, they've bought ten wands. The wands are active, sir: they are being used, and often, but the people who are using them…"

"What is it?"

"Mr. Potter, the people who are using them don't exist in Ministry Records."

**.**

**.**

_6:04:am.13:05:1979_

_Waverly Cathedral, London_

Before Jane Wickham existed, and before Anna Evans existed, and before two other people existed, there was a girl who loved weddings. It is this girl she tries to channel now.

It is a futile effort. You can pretend the memories aren't there, but you can't erase memories. Or feelings. God, she hates feelings. She tries to summon anger, or indignation towards the soon-to-be wed couple, but she can't. All she feels is an overwhelming sense of loss that threatens to make her melt down and cry.

She shakes her head and stares at the Church.

This is a beautiful Church.

_She would have liked to get married here._

Lily Evans bares her teeth and shakes her head. "Forget them," she instructs. "Forget them." The tactical side of her looks at the job before her logically.

She frowns.

She is not at all happy with the security of this Church. It is a _nightmare_. Eleven entrances, an isolated upper floor, a bell tower, too many hidden alcoves and inadequate escape routes made it almost impossible to guarantee the wedding guests' safety. If she had be asked, she would have suggested an underground wedding, in a cement box reinforced with steel, with port keys being the only way to enter. Of course, she doubts such a place even existed, and had she found one, the couple's high society family would have snubbed it in a second.

She sighs and rubs her face wearily, before starting the wards with the very basics.

**.**

**.**

_6:05:am.13:05:1979_

_London_

"They don't exist in _Ministry Records_."

"Exactly, Mr. Potter." The detective sounds pleased that he has caught on so quickly. "There are other records of them: in newspapers, sir, bank statements, and whatnot. But no records whatsoever in the Ministry database."

"How is that possible? Unless someone not only removed the records, but is also actively erasing anything that comes in…"

_Actively erasing anything that comes in. _

"Is Anna Evans' name listed as a user of any of the wands?"

"No."

"I need all the information you have collected. Owl them to my office."

**.**

**.**

_7:00:am.13:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

There was a puzzle piece here that didn't fit in yet, but once it did, everything would fall into place.

He wracks his brains, staring at the pieces of paper scattered all over his table.

Someone from the Ministry was actively hiding records of _ten_ people. It wasn't impossible to search for them, of course, but it made it incredibly difficult work. The database was the Ministry's main way of tracking the activities of all the people in the Wizarding World. Removing someone's file was tantamount to making them vanish. Now: why would people want to vanish? He stares at the list of names.

All of the people in this list are Pureblood, and known Voldemort supporters. He knows he should probably turn this list in to the Ministry: but everything here reeks of deception.

He has a list of ten known Voldemort supporters, who are using wands bought by a group of ten different people who have absolutely no records whatsoever, except those that link them to their joint account. He runs his fingers through his hair, frustrated.

And so, he does what he always does when he needs help.

Three minutes later, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black are in his office. Three heads are better than one.

**.**

**.**

_7:08:am.13:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

"I've got it," Remus Lupin says quietly. "Look at the list of wand users: they're all foreign. Hale, Knott and Charleston are American. Casket and Bongers are German; Pria and Chevalier are French. They haven't been in Voldemort's circles for long; in fact, at most, their Pureblood families only go back three or four generations."

Sirius and James wait for him to continue.

"It wouldn't be preposterous, then, to conclude that they're fakes."

"Aliases," James says thoughtfully. "Ten people with no records pretending to be ten people whose records have been stolen from the Ministry Database."

A slow smile makes its way across Sirius' face. "It's so mad one might believe it has to be true."

"How do we verify, though?" Remus murmurs, staring at the list of names. There are ten names on each side of the paper. He knows, through gut instinct, that each name in column A matches up with a name in column B.

James grins ominously. "Looks like we're going to make a small trip to Paris National Bank."

**.**

**.**

_7:15:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris National Bank_

"This is a very special account, monsieur," Simon Rousseau, the Bank Manager, apologizes. "I cannot simply tell you the information you request," and at this he holds up a finger, "even if you are on Ministry business."

Sirius has to press his lips together to avoid from chuckling, as his words came out sounding like every 's' was substituted with a 'z' and his 'r's rolled terribly.

"We need to find the address of any of the people on this list."

"I cannot give you that information, unless you have permission of the account holder, monsieur."

"Who's the account holder?" Remus questions, as James looks like he wants to rip the man's head off.

"That I can tell you," he smiles, showing all of his teeth, and looking suspiciously like a shark. "Her name is Sara Fournier. Shall I call her for you?"

**.**

**.**

_7:16:am.13:05:1979_

_French Headquarters_

"Some Ministry hotshot is asking Simon about the account," Keira announces to the three other people in the room. As she speaks, she waves her wand, changing her height, eye shape and color and hair. "I'm going to Apparate there to see if I can settle it myself."

**.**

**.**

_7:28:am.13:05:1979_

_French Headquarters_

The word 'shit' is the first thing that comes out of Keira Jansen's mouth as she appears in the room where her colleagues are sorting through large piles of paperwork.

Her partner, Sandy Olympus, looks up from his work. "What?"

"James Potter is the one making the inquiry," she hisses. "He has a list of all our aliases, and he seems to know they're fake."

Ren and Scott Chaplin, brothers in real life, also known as George and Graham Casket – although those aliases are now bust – stand up at the same time.

"We have to tell Sara."

They walk hurriedly down the hall and into their boss' office. Sara looks up, sees their faces and stands up. "What?"

"James Potter has a list of our aliases," Keira announces. "He has both aliases, and he knows that they're the same people, although he doesn't know who is who. He's with Simon now, inquiring after the joint account."

"Merde," Sara groans.

**.**

**.**

_7:31:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris National Bank_

Sara and Keira appear in the bank foyer: Keira looking like Kelly, and Sara looking like Sara.

"I am so sorry," Simon says apologetically. "But the guards, once they saw it was James Potter, they let him in, Madame, even though I have insisted that no one is to be let it at nine, and certainly not without an appointment."

"If anyone is at fault, it is I, monsieur, for being so careless with receipts."

"Non, Madame, how could you have ensured that every single cashier in all the stores would not have handed over receipts at the wave of some money, no? It is impossible these days to ensure complete privacy."

Sara sighs. "Nevertheless, there will be dire consequences. Where are they?"

"In the Board Room; I assumed you would want privacy."

"Thank you, Simon."

She walks into the room and settles in a chair across the three men. She meets their eyes fleetingly. "Hello, gentlemen. My name is Sara Fournier, and this is my assistant, Kelly Jansen. How can I help you?"

Remus speaks first, because he is always the one who talks when with people of high authority. This probably has something to do with the mischievousness that most would call insolence that leaks from James' and Sirius' voices when provoked.

"I'm Remus Lupin, and these are my colleagues, James Potter and Sirius Black. We were working on something for the Ministry when we came across this account."

"I fail to see why you needed to inquire into this account, Mr. Lupin, as there has been nothing illegal going on."

James stares at Kelly Jansen. Kelly Jansen was someone who had no Ministry records – ever, and had no other paperwork except for those that linked her to this account. And yet here she was, in the flesh.

"Are you the person who pays for the purchases, Madame?" James says quietly, and suddenly.

Sara forces her eyes away from Remus Lupin to settle them on James Potter. He and Lily Evans are so similar: they have that exact same intensity and passion for living sparking in their eyes. She finds it almost difficult to meet his gaze. "Yes."

"Are you aware that, using this account, ten different people have bought wands?"

"Yes."

"So you're also aware, I'm sure, that the purchased wands are not being used by the people who purchased them, but by ten different people entirely? And that these ten people are known Voldemort supporters?"

Sara surveys him with soft brown eyes. The assessment lasts only for a few seconds, but James knows that Sara Fournier has probably read him better than most people would ever be able to in a lifetime. She gave him the same feeling he got when he was in the presence of Albus Dumbledore or Alastor Moody: that this was someone who had the wisdom of the ages behind her.

"I feel like I can trust you, Mr. Potter. So I will tell you this," she murmurs mildly, "sometimes, things are not at all what they seem. Now, I ask you to trust my judgment. It would do you and your friends well if you don't ask questions about this issue any longer."

"I will," James agrees easily, leaning forward to stare her straight in the eye, "if you tell me where Lily Evans is."

**.**

**.**

_7:40:am.13:05:1979_

_Waverly Cathedral, London_

A chain is only as strong as its weakest link.

The phrase has been drilled into her head so often that sometimes, she murmurs it in her sleep. She stares at the Church, and flicks a pebble at it. The invisible barrier shimmers as it deflects the pebble.

The shield is dome shaped, spaced a good ten meters away from all sides of the Church. It repels anything or anyone that tries to pass through it, except, of course, those on a very select list. The shield is only the foundation, for any wizard or witch who can cast a particularly strong Patronus will be able to create a break in the shield, if only for seconds, and pass through.

To remedy that problem, she slashes her wand through the air, pauses for two beats before saying, "_Salvarus frangere_." It's frightening, the amount of material she has learned through being around people of high magical caliber. She conjures an image of Hogwarts days in her head and says, "_Expecto Patronum_." The doe bursts from her wand tip only to freeze in front of the shield. It shakes its head and looks back at her, as if to say, _no can do._ Satisfied with her work, the doe disappears.

"_Fyrian_ _Protegere_," she whispers, waving her wand in a complicated series of twists. The shield glows a peculiar shade of bright orange for six seconds. Lily conjures a leaf and sends it floating towards the shield. It is burnt to a crisp. As the ashes swirl around for a few seconds, she almost smiles.

**.**

**.**

_7:49:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris National Bank_

"Mr. Potter, you are not in the position to be making demands about Miss Evans' whereabouts," Sara says softly.

If James is frustrated, he doesn't show it. Instead, he smiles at her. "So you do know where Lily Evans is."

"Mr. Potter –"

"That's all we need to know. Thank you for your time."

"Mr. Potter, do I have your word that you are not to make further inquiries about this account?" Sara demands, standing up and gripping her wand.

James stares at her with twinkling hazel eyes. "No."

Kelly (Keira) looks appropriately disgruntled at such a show of disrespect and takes her wand. "Look here," she begins.

"I think we're done here, then," James says pleasantly, standing up. Remus and Sirius follow his example and shoot them cheeky grins.

"Mr. Potter," Kelly tries again, "if you don't sit down, I will have to use force to restrain you."

"Would you really?" James questions, his eyes twinkling, tilting his head to the side. "I'd like to see that."

Kelly, having had enough, shoots a body-binding curse at James Potter, but to her surprise, it bounces off him harmlessly.

James grins. "It was lovely to meet you, Madame Fournier. Miss Kelly Jansen. I do hope we see each other soon."

And then, before either of them can say a word, he vanishes, along with his two friends.

Keira and Sara stare at the spot where those disgruntling young gentlemen stood seconds ago.

Sara sighs, falls into her seat and drops her head into her hands.

"How did he reflect that curse?"

"Shields," Sara mumbles. "He put up a shield with wandless magic."

"You have to be extremely good to perform wandless magic," Keira says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Sara snorts. "Trust me, Keira: James Potter _is_ extremely good."

"He should have been recruited," Keira says suddenly. "He's better than me, and I am no slouch."

"He almost was." It's said so quietly, she almost doesn't hear it.

Keira's interest is piqued. "Why wasn't he?"

"Too much joie de vivre," she laughs, before turning somber. "Just like his ex-girlfriend." This was such a mess. James Potter, Sirius Black and Remus Lupin were unraveling loose ends, and it wouldn't be long before they found out the entire operation. It was time to tie loose ends, and burn all evidence of the team. They shouldn't have been careless.

"Just like who?" Keira considered herself to be a relatively smart girl: a bit too guided by instinct, maybe, and a tad careless and brash, but altogether an intelligent and talented wizard. She wouldn't have been recruited otherwise. But, even then, all of this history was confusing her.

"Lily Evans," Sara says tiredly, standing up. "Lily Evans was James Potter's ex-girlfriend."

* * *

**Dundundun. The mystery unfolds! =)) So. What do you guys think? **


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Enjoy reading it. Heaven knows I had a lot of fun writing it. **

* * *

**.**

**.**

**November 1976**

**.**

**.**

Something is different.

He has no idea what is it, of course. But _something_ is _different_.

**.**

**.**

"Black, we need to talk."

He turns around to see Alice and Dorcas standing there. "Did she tell you anything?"

"Yes. Did he?"

"Yes."

Dorcas breaks the silence. "What'd he say?"

"What'd she say?" Sirius counters.

Alice sighs, pinches her nose. "She said she asked him if he loved her."

"He said he said he was in love with her."

The friends of James and Lily stare at each other. They all know that this has been bubbling for seven years, that it is high time, that now it is time to wait. But knowing doesn't always make things like this any easier.

"Are you going to wait?" Alice questions, tilting her head to the side.

Sirius chuckles lowly, darkly; Dorcas stares, fascinated. "I've waited six years for this to happen. A few more days won't kill me."

**.**

**.**

Love is essentially the essence of human nature. It is what we are made for, our purpose of sorts. Mingled with that is hate. It is a precarious balance. Lily Evans tumbled over the precipice by falling in love with James Potter. She cannot to climb back up; she knows that even if she could, she doesn't want to. But like someone who has suddenly discovered that they have won the lottery, does not want to give back the money but does not know just what to do with it either, she is – confused. Besides. James Potter is a million times better than a lottery.

Something must be done about this. What that something is eludes her. So she sits in her room sometimes, or in an alcove in the library, or alone near the lake, or anywhere, really, and thinks.

**.**

**.**

"It's unsettling, isn't it?"

He is behind her. She stays silent and tries to convince her heart to keep quiet.

"To love someone is the best and worst thing in the world," he continues. His warm breath blows on her neck and she suppresses a shiver. "Although I suppose you know that now."

"What do you want, James?"

"I want what you want," he says smoothly. He has stepped into her personal space. She pretends not to notice.

Daringly – or perhaps stupidly – she turns around. Her nose nearly bumps his chest. She leans back against the counter, leans away from him and tries to speak flippantly. "And what do you think I want?"

She knows she does not imagine the quirk of his lips. "You already know."

"Then why wouldn't I go after it?"

His hazel eyes –gold, green and mud, she thinks – smolder. "You're scared." He shoots her a smirk and leans in toward her so that they are inches apart. "And it is _pathetic_," he whispers. She cannot help the shiver that runs through her involuntarily, although she recovers quickly and shoots him a glare that would have sent most running for cover.

"Like you're any different?" she demands. "If you really know what I want, and you certainly seem to know what you want, then why aren't you going after what we both supposedly want?" But that is a stupid question, too, and they both know she only says it because she has nothing else.

Then, James Potter grins in a way she has not seen him grin since – well, since Fifth Year. And for a moment, that James, that sunny, carefree James, is back. "Ball's in your court, love." Then he drops a kiss on her forehead, which makes Lily think of other more _appropriate_ places he could have placed his lips on. Which makes her scowl, because God, she _is_ pathetic, which makes him chuckle lowly before disappearing on her.

She turns back to her cup of coffee with a scowl plastered on her face. This is not turning out to be a good day. And it's only nine in the morning.

**.**

**.**

Dorcas squints her eyes at Lily, who is reaching up to a book balanced precariously on the topmost shelf. "She's about to crack," she whispers to Alice, who was trying to deter Frank from nuzzling her neck and force him to concentrate on his homework.

"Of course she's about to crack," Alice says sensibly, sending her boyfriend a scathing look of disapproval, "she just realized she's in love with James Potter."

"It had to happen sometime," Frank comments, settling in his seat. "Why Potter hasn't done anything about it, I have no idea."

"I'm sure he has, in his Potter way," Dorcas says dismissively.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Alice and Frank chime at exactly the same time.

Dorcas tears her eyes away from Lily. "Well, you can't actually expect James Potter _not_ to do anything about the love of his life falling in love with him, can you? I'm sure he's made some powerful suggestion or manipulative trick to ensure that Lily falls straight into his arms soon."

Frank shrugs, acquiescing that Potter, while more reserved, was still Potter, and therefore prone to doing a host of unprecedented and brilliant things, especially when someone as important as Lily Evans was concerned.

His girlfriend is not convinced. "Lily isn't some twit who easily sways to the power of suggestion of some bloke."

"And James Potter is not some bloke," Remus Lupin, apparently having eavesdropped on the conversation says, sinking into the chair beside Alice.

"Oh, good. Someone from the enemy camp," Dorcas whispers dramatically. She grins at Remus. "How is el Capitan faring? Better than our unfortunate Lily Maid?"

Lily, having collected the precariously balanced book, goes deeper into the library to look for another book. Remus, taking note of that, makes a shaky motion with his hand. "He's waiting."

"Hasn't he always been?" Frank points out wryly.

And the other three people at the table have to concede that yes, James Potter was always waiting. However, judging by the expression on Lily Evan's face as she shot past them, red hair streaming and a grim determination on her face, he wouldn't be waiting for much longer.

**.**

**.**

Lily Evans marches up to James Potter, drags him from his comfortable position on the bench and slaps him. This, observers mutter, is not anything new. Evans slapping Potter is a time-old tradition. What she does next, however, is most decidedly new.

You see, at one thirty-two in the afternoon on the second Thursday of November 1976, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, Lily Evans kisses James Potter.

Applause rings out.

**.**

**.**

**Present Day**

**.**

**.**

_8:17:am.13:05:1979_

_Ministry of Magic, London_

Sirius Black cannot believe what he is seeing. "Prongs. Moony."

"What?" the two mutter, frustrated at their lack of success.

"Look at this." They abandon their own stacks of paper to move behind Sirius, who has a Pensieve playing something.

"What is it?" Remus questions. "The Ministry doesn't approve of the use of Muggle equipment. How do you have these tapes?"

James snorts. "Do you _honestly_ have to ask him that?"

Remus sighs. Years after Hogwarts, and still, James Potter and Sirius Black are up to no good – with him as a relatively willing accomplice, no less. He is about to voice his opinion about disobeying actual law when Sirius slaps the back of his head.

"Will you two tossers shut up and watch?" Sirius waves his wand and the video moves backward slowly. "Stop," he whispers, just as an individual comes onto screen. "Is that Anna Evans, Prongs?"

James nods slowly.

"Anna Evans enters Moody's office…" Sirius waves his wand and the video starts to move forward rapidly. "Anna Evans enters Moody's office again on the same day and comes out looking like… that." The woman who has just exited has a severe bob, is short and stocky and looks nothing like Lily Evans. Which is exactly the point.

James Potter stares at the woman. "We found her."

**.**

**.**

_9:18:am.13:05:1979_

_Paris_

"A package arrived for you," Lily says, fiddling around with a metal box, as Mark walks into the apartment.

"They asked where you were. I made fantastic excuses, I have to say," Mark drawls, plucking the package and unwrapping it in deft movements. "'She's in a spa in Tuscany. Horribly stressed, Alexandra. It's all this fuss with her parents in America. I loathe staying there, but one must follow the in-laws,'" he mimics. "They bought it."

Lily doesn't bother looking up from her gadget. "And _you_ bought a new broom. I don't know why you have to always have the latest and best in broomsticks. It's not like you use them that much…or at all."

"It's the principle of the thing," Mark explains, rapping on the handle, before carefully placing it in a closet that held thirteen other broomsticks. "When I do go around trying to kill myself on the broomsticks, I have to make sure I have the best."

"If you wanted to kill yourself through death defying stunts, we have enough opportunities," Lily says dryly.

"Like you bringing a bomb home," Mark points out dryly, dropping into the chair in front of her. "Why do we have a bomb at home, anyway?"

"Security for the Church. It explodes, propelling outwards and incapacitating everyone within a twenty foot radius of the shield… if anyone manages to get past my Jelly-Leg Hexes Barrier."

"You put a Jelly-Leg Hexes barrier? That's not very threatening."

"That's after my _Poena Nunc_ and _Fyrian_ _Protegere_ curse, naturally," Lily sighs.

"Being ripped apart by pain and burnt alive, jelly legs, and then incapacitation," Mark says appreciatively. "I quite like it."

"You are sadistic."

"And you are masochistic."

"Bugger off."

Mark nods. "Are you almost done with that job?"

"Just have to tidy up some things and Alexandra shall join her _lovely_ husband tomorrow," Lily says dryly.

"Oh, he does look forward to it," Mark sighs.

**.**

**.**

_9:45:am.13:05:1979_

_Waverly Cathedral, London_

Lily surveys her work critically when the familiar pop of an apparition has her disappearing into thin air. She looks around the Church suspiciously. Her senses are tingling. There are people here.

She feels her heart thud as Sirius Black appears from behind a bush and strolls towards the Church. He stops right before he hits the shield, as if he can see it – which he shouldn't be able to, and that worries her. "You can come out, you know," Sirius says in that rather-jovial-dry voice of his. "I don't bite."

Since it would be suspicious not to, she does.

"Jane Wickham, isn't it?" He turns to smile at her. It reminds her of old days.

"Yes," she says curtly. This is Jane Wickham's persona and she will act it out to the hilt.

"You've done a good job with the shield," Sirius says, smiling. "Oh, where are my manners, eh? I'm -"

"I know who you are, Black," she says with a quick eye roll. James Potter and Sirius Black were probably the most famous Aurors of their generation. They appear almost weekly in newspapers, their names making headlines and their photos posted up for the entire Wizarding World to see. "What I want to know is why you're here." She narrows her eyes. "Did Moody send you to check up on me?"

"No." He pauses and stares at her critically. And Lily can't help thinking that if this continues, he will know, just like his best friend knew. "You remind me of someone, you know that?"

Terror grips her. "Cut to the chase."

Sirius smiles softly. His gray eyes pinion hers. "Hey, Evans."

**.**

**.**

_9:47:am.13:05:1979_

_Waverly Cathedral, London_

_If this is Lily_, Remus thinks, _her acting skills have vastly improved over the two-year interval_. James is tense, beside him, his eyes roving over Jane Wickham's figure almost obsessively. He wonders if this was a good idea. James might break, again. And he barely lived through the last one.

She chuckles. "You think I'm Lily Evans?"

"I know you're Lily Evans."

"I understand your desperation, Black, but isn't this pathetic, even for you? I suppose James Potter is lurking around here, as well."

Remus places a restraining hand on James, who looks like he is about to explode out of his skin, if such a thing were possible.

"What makes you think I'm her?"

"How did you know James Potter would be here?" Sirius says quietly, tilting his head to the side. He twirls his wand around. "How do you even know how I know Lily Evans?"

"Common sense," she says dismissively. "I read about her disappearance in the Prophet, just like everyone else in the Wizarding World. Tragic, I must say."

"It was never mentioned, our relationship with her. How did you know?"

She merely laughs again. "You don't really have any right to interrogate me, Black. I'm just doing my job."

Sirius suddenly decides to drop the topic and backs away. Remus wants to ask just what does he think he's doing, but he doesn't. Sirius is even better at manipulation than James is. But before he disappears, he asks her a question. There is no emotion on her face when he asks it. Just like there is no emotion on her face when he disappears. She turns to stare at the spot they are standing in, and then they disappear.

In the flurry of apparition, Remus thinks that maybe Jane Wickham isn't Lily Evans. That woman has no life to her. That woman is cold. And Lily Evans was many things, but she had never, _ever_ been cold.

**.**

**.**

_9:47:am.13:05:1979_

_Waverly Cathedral, London_

"How could you do this to us, Evans?" Sirius whispers before he disappears. It takes every ounce of willpower in her to stop the scream that says that she did what she felt like she had to do and she's so sorry they got hurt but she had to do this.

A carefully planned scheme is falling apart. Anger and disappointment mingle with self-reproach and she feels so angry. She needs to explode, and as there is no outlet for her here, she disappears to the one place she knows she can.

**.**

**.**

_10:54:am.13:05:1979_

_Practice Rooms, Headquarters_

"I needed that." Lily doesn't remove her wand from his throat, and he doesn't let his wand wander from her temple.

"Are you two done trying to kill each other?" Sara apparates into the practice ground and snorts. "You've wrecked it."

"I put shields," Lily mumbles, gasping for air.

"I decimated them," Gavinsky reminds, prodding her temple with his wand. "Tie."

"Deuce," Lily agrees, before letting him go and sliding to the floor. She feels the kind of aching bone-tired that comes from too much physical exertion – the kind of tired that leaves no room for feelings. Which was, she thinks with a mild amount of satisfaction, the point. "It's been two years to the day since I met your insufferable arse, Gavinsky."

Gavinsky slumps to the ground in front of her and rests his forehead against hers. He lets his eyes slide shut. While waiting for pain and darkness to pull them both under, he decides another prevarication in a long career of prevarications will not hurt anyone at all. In fact, one might reason that the situation absolutely warrants it. "We're going to be fine, Evans. We're fucked up, but we're going to be fine."

**.**

**.**

_1:09:am.13:05:1977_

The boy on the bed surveys her as she walks in. Clearly, he has been expecting the intrusion. He says nothing as she places her trunk at the foot of the bed. He is silent even while she unpacks her belongings. It takes her all of three minutes. Then she sits on her bed, a bed that faces his, and they watch each other. He breaks the silence first.

"Mark Gavinsky," he says hoarsely. He sounds like he hasn't spoken in quite a while. "Durmstrang."

"Lily Evans," she whispers shakily. "Hogwarts."

They lapse back into silence. "Do you reckon…" Lily swallows. "Do you reckon we'll regret this?"

He laughs, shortly, before turning away from her, shoving his trainers off and lying down on his bed. It is a while before he answers. "Don't you see, Lily Evans of Hogwarts?" He says her name slowly, like he is tasting it on his tongue. "We already do."

**.**

**.**

_12:32:pm.13:05:1979_

_Healing Ward, Headquarters_

Lily's green eyes fly open and she jolts out of bed with her wand pointed straight at the person she knows is standing at the foot of the bed.

Sara Fournier smiles down at her grimly. "Excellent instincts, cherie. But you can relax."

"What's the name of my ex-best friend?" Lily says, fighting the urge to collapse back with ease. She's been through much worse than fatigue.

"You had two," Sara replies, unfazed by being held at wandpoint. "Alice and Dorcas."

Lily slouches back into bed, although her grip on her wand is still tight.

Sara is about to start talking when the entrance of a large black woman interrupts her.

Hardened though she is, Lily winces at the look of reproach on the nurse's face.

"Lily Evans, y'all doin' your poor body _great_ deal of stress. Why, you and Mark-boy nearly kilt each other, you did. I won't have you a-leavin' this ward for three more hours at _least_. So no, Miss Sara, y'all can't have them precious jewels yet. They _needs_ to rest or else they'll be collapsin' all over that bloody field and who knows what will happen then and what Rosemary's gonna have 'ta fix then. No siree, Miss Sara, Lily and Mark-boy ain't leavin' this ward for a bit yet," she finishes, her big hands on her hips as she sniffs indignantly.

The seventeen-year old in her wants to snicker at the resigned look on Sara's face.

"Very well, Rosemary," Sara sighs. She turns her gaze to Lily. "Report to me at exactly 1700 with your husband." Lily barely has time to say, "Yes," before she disappears.

Lily looks over to the next bed at Gavinsky, who is shuddering in his sleep as a broken bone is sown back together. "How is he?"

Rosemary looks over at the boy. "Mark-boy's had worse, Miss Lily. You just rest, and let him do his own healing."

Mildly comforted, she lets sleep take over her.

**.**

**.**

_5:20:pm.13:05:1979_

_Headquarters_

"James Potter has recently become aware of your aliases."

Lily nods in affirmation.

Sara purses her lips and considers the situation. "He's brilliant, isn't he?"

"Brilliantly _wrecking our cover_, more like," Gavinsky snorts. He has not met James Potter personally, but already, he dislikes him on principle.

Sara ignores him. "He's inevitably going to get his way."

Lily is mildly surprised. "That sounds suspiciously like we're contemplating defeat."

Sara smiles. "You have much to learn, mon petit canard. There _is_ a difference between a strategy and a tactic – the same different between a war and a battle, no? Perhaps the time has come for us to change tactics."

Lily and Gavinsky exchange glances.

"I don't like the sound of this," Gavinsky says cautiously.

Sara threads her fingers together. "I have a new assignment for you, Lily."

**.**

**.**

_5:22:pm.13:05:1979_

_Outside conference room, Headquarters_

He is currently preventing her from Apparating. "You know I hold Sara Fournier in the highest regard, Evans, but I honestly think that this time, she's gone bonkers."

Lily shoots him a look of aggravation. "It was a serious order, Gavinsky. It hurt when I even _thought_ about disobeying."

He looks almost desperate. "Evans…"

"What do you want me to do, Mark?" she hisses. His first name slips out easily, as it always does in times of distress. "I can't disobey a direct order – and neither can you. Obstructing my path is tantamount to breaking our oath. Doesn't it burn?" She clenches her fist. She knows hers does.

Gavinsky looks down at her. "You can't foresee what will happen," he says lowly. "It will end in disaster, Evans; you will be left with a broken heart. Why do you rush forward to fulfill an order that will bring you nothing but pain?"

But even as he asks, he already knows the answer.

She knows he knows.

"My heart's already broken, Gavinsky," she says lightly. "A few more shards won't matter." She smiles at him blackly and reaches out to squeeze her partner's hand. "I'll be back tonight – and I fully expect you to fix me."

She Apparates without so much as a noise.

Gavinsky stares at the space that she has just left and wishes that just this once, Lily Evans were a coward.

**.**

**.**

_12:34:am.13:05:1977_

"Once you swear this oath, you are a member until death or dissolution."

She thinks of what she has to fight for. Unsurprisingly, it is a long list of names. It is worth it. "I understand."

"Once you become a member, you leave your identity behind. "

"I understand."

She surveys her. "You have so much to live for, Lily Evans."

"If you really think about it, Madame," she says, cracking a tired smile, the smile of a person who has already thought of all the possibilities and settled (braced) herself for a course of action that she could very well regret, (a smile that will be redefined as her usual smile for the next two years) "that's just another way of saying I have so much to die for."

**.**

**.**

_5:30:pm.13:05:1979_

_Library, Cooper Mansion_

"We don't need bodyguards."

Moody eyes him almost indifferently. "You don't have a choice."

"It's true, mate," Sirius says, wincing at the thunder in James' eyes. "The Minister signed the order himself."

James is the kind of person who, when angry, becomes quieter and quieter. This is what happens now. There is a storm above James' head, and in his eyes. Pearson squeezes his arm. He looks down at his fiancée with torn eyes. "_Why_?" he spits at his best friend.

"The Ministry has received information that Voldemort's forces intend to attack the Potter wedding," Sirius says quietly.

Pearson inhales sharply and curls herself into his side. He almost unconsciously lets his arm encircle her waist.

Moody displays rare diplomacy when he takes it upon himself to explain. "The Wizarding World's in a bad state, Potter. The Auror office has had to censor the press to ensure that nothing too harsh will come out and lower public morale even further. Enter your Wedding of the Decade and suddenly, people have something else to watch."

If James or Pearson are inwardly bristling at being a made a spectacle of, they don't show it.

"This wedding is being watched very closely," Moody mutters. "I cannot begin to tell you the kind of fear and eventually, panic, that would ensue if something untimely were to happen your bride. Or you." He inclines his head towards the couple. "With your protection – and prevention of hysteria – in mind, the Ministry has assigned each of you an operative who will shadow you until the wedding."

"Just one?" Pearson says softly, mildly surprised. "One guard for each of us?"

Moody smiles grimly. "They'll be enough."

James watches him with dark eyes. "You seem very _assured_ of their capabilities."

"I should be. I trained them myself."

"How do we know they're really as good as you say?" Sirius cuts in. "And who in Merlin's name _are_ they? Don't tell me you've assigned James and Pearson _Aurors_ for protection. You might as well have assigned Remus or me to them! We're with them all the time, anyway."

"They're not Aurors." Moody looks at something on his wrist. "They've arrived."

Sirius and James' eyes flick to each other's. Silent communication passes between them. Neither likes being caught unaware. This feels very much like they have just been hoodwinked by Mad-Eye.

"Are we to meet them somewhere?" Pearson questions, her breeding forcing her to sound breezy and polite, even when presented with an unorthodox circumstance.

Moody looks up and his eyes look eerily – amused. The world must be tilting even further on its axis, Pearson thinks, because Mad-Eyed Moody looks like he wants to _laugh_. "Oh, they're already here."

Pearson's blue eyes widen in alarm. "_Here_? In the Mansion?"

"Yes," Moody says calmly.

The Cooper Mansion, being a Pureblood Mansion of a family that went back only eight generations, is considered a mansion of parvenus, especially when compared to families like the Potters, Blacks and Malfoys, who can trace their ancestry as far back as the fourth century. However, parvenus though they might be, the Coopers had created a security system that could hold its own against any Pureblood house.

James's eyes narrow. "I've inspected the wards of this house myself, Mad-Eye. A person who could slip through the defenses unnoticed," and this person _must_ have slipped through the security system unnoticed, because no alarms had sounded, "would have to be very deft with charms work."

"They are."

"They?" Pearson demands. She feels skittish. The idea that someone had infiltrated the wards was not pleasant. The idea that two people had managed it was even less so.

"The two operatives." Moody's eyes spin around the room. "Ah. They're with us."

**.**

**.**

_5:57:pm.13:05:1979_

_In between wards, Cooper Mansion_

A bead of sweat makes its way down Lily's forehead as she struggles to keep the orifice open. Penelope is closing the other ward, furiously whispering a stream of French words to ensure that the alarms do not sound. She finishes and spins around. Breathing heavily, Penelope stares at the tiny space and without hesitation lunges through it, her body twisting into a shape that would be impossible for most people. She rolls through the grass before deftly jumping to her feet. "Bloody Purebloods and their bloody paranoia," Penelope hisses just as Lily collapses the hole in the shield.

Taking a deep breath, Lily wipes her sweat away and surveys their surroundings. They are now in what Lily knows to be the Coopers' Back Garden. The expanse of green grass looks harmless, but she knows better. To get _into_ the house might prove even more difficult than getting past the gate. She moves a trained eye across the Mansion, searching for the telltale signs of magical wards – she concludes after eyeing the slight shimmer in the air surrounding the Left Wing and the particularly _bright_ quality of the Back Entrance that the Right Wing is the least guarded. She is about to tell Penelope this when they both feel a tingle run down their arms.

Their eyes snap to each other's and both can almost hear the other's thoughts: _Moody is giving us a summons._ Moody is inviting them into the house. "Thank God," Penelope mutters.

They close their eyes and Disapparate.

**.**

**.**

_5:59:pm.13:05:1979_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

Penelope has barely enveloped herself in invisibility when James Potter spins around, slashes his wand and sends the blanket vibrating, revealing her location to all in the room. She _should_ be furious that she has been found, but mostly she is vaguely impressed at James Potter's skill. Shields are her specialty, after all – her favorite, so to speak, just as Charms and Wards are Lily's and Memory is Mark's – and to have _sort of_ been bested at it by Lily's ex-boyfriend must mean that James Potter is very, very good at magic.

"Stop the cloak-and-dagger act," he says tiredly, but with enough authority in his voice to make Penelope listen. She doesn't want him _angry_, after all. She drops the defenses, and to the rest of the people in the room it indubitably looks like she has just stepped out of thin air.

She throws James Potter a bright smile before stepping to Moody's side, reaching into her pocket for a pack of gum, unwrapping it and tossing it into her mouth. She commences chewing.

James, Sirius and Pearson are unsure of what to make of this 'Operative' and this is evident by their uncharacteristic silence.

"Potter, Black, Miss Cooper – this is Penelope Turner."

James and Sirius stiffen. Suddenly, things are beginning to make sense.

Penelope gives them a casual once-over. She knows perfectly well what they're thinking, what they've just realized. She almost feels sorry for them, because this is about to get a lot worse.

"She will be Miss Cooper's shadow for the next two days."

"Pleased to meet you," she says, throwing a wink at Pearson and snapping her gum. "I'll keep you safe – I promise."

Pearson inclines her head and returns the pleasantry.

"So where's the other one?" Sirius says carefully, gripping his wand and feeling the hair on his neck rise as it only does when something is very, very wrong.

Moody's magical eye shifts to a black couch by the bookshelf. All eyes turn to the seemingly empty couch. "None of you will need introductions to this one."

And just like that, Lily Evans – the _Real_ Lily Evans, complete with bright green eyes and flaming red hair and an insouciance that belays the gravity of the situation – appears on the couch. She is slouching into the couch, and her right ankle is tucked behind her left ankle. She is twirling her wand in the air. She is dressed in dark jeans and a dark top and looks uncharacteristically solemn. She looks at Sirius, then Pearson. "Hi Black. Pearson." She flicks her eyes up to James Potter's frozen, furious hazel eyes and cracks a small, small, _small_ smile. "James." She takes a deep breath. "Long time no see."

* * *

**A/N: ...oh, I know. I know. I'm sorry. **

**Now. Poll: _Will James kill her or kiss her?_ **

**Also, don't you hate it when people say, "Long time no see?" I myself find the phrase absolutely abhorrent. **

**And I'm terribly interested in what you guys have to say: **

**_What do you think is going to happen, now that Lily is James' bodyguard? _**

**Funny picture, isn't it? And I've got all sorts of scenarios planned out. But I'd like to know what you think. So please - review. :)**


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: I just finished a rather important chapter of my life recently, and have been stressed out about some decision making I had to do. I recently found this unfinished chapter in my hard drive and decided to finish it. **

**J.K. was right. _Hogwarts will always be there to welcome us home._ That's what writing this felt like: coming home. **

**Thank you for all the reviews, PMs, story/author alerts and favorite story/author alerts. I would never have been able to complete this chapter without the written and unwritten encouragement. **

* * *

******.**

**.**

**December 1976**

**.**

**.**

She falls into the routine with startling quickness and fewer explosions than she had anticipated. She wakes up, showers, brushes her teeth and her hair, picks up her schoolbag and leaves her room, before proceeding to spend the rest of the day with James Potter. He waits for her in their Common Room, and walks her to the Great Hall, and eats breakfast with her and her friends and his friends, who are all unsurprisingly getting along. Then they go to class and they separate for the lectures, before coming back together.

And so it continues.

**.**

**.**

"Come to the Christmas Ball with me."

She looks up from her Potions homework, startled, and narrows her eyes. "_What_?"

To his credit, he simply stands there and repeats his request.

She swallows, before putting her Quill down and drumming her fingers on the table. Assessing him, just to see how serious he is. "The _Hogwarts_ Christmas Ball," she clarifies.

He nods. "The one we've been planning for a month, yes."

She opens her mouth. Then she closes it. "Why?"

"I want you to."

She looks at him. Licks her lips. Stands up. Crosses her arms and stares at him some more. It's almost like a battle of wits, except that for once there is no trace of mischievousness or playfulness in his eyes. He's honestly putting himself out there again, for rejection. But…he hadn't really asked, had he? "You didn't even ask." The words tumble out of her mouth without her allowing them to.

His lips twitch. But this is James Potter, and he rebounds fast. "Lily Evans, will you please do me the great honor of attending this year's Hogwarts Christmas Ball with me?"

There is no kneeling, no loud proclamations of devotion, no begging, no fireworks, no large audience. Just a boy and a girl and a few simple words. Just sincerity and a little bit of longing – and a rather frightening amount of love, which they haven't talked about yet. Still:

"Yes."

The smile starts in his eyes. "Really?" His voice is tinged with disbelief and happiness, and above all hope.

She giggles a little, although she mentally berates herself for sounding like such a girl. "_Yes_. James Potter, I would be honored to attend this year's Hogwarts Christmas Ball with you." And then she's smiling, too.

**.**

**.**

When she stumbles out of her bed on Christmas morning, she's in her house, and it's warm and the smell of her mother's cooking wafts up her nostrils, and _she misses him_.

But that's ridiculous. It's only been a week. So she shakes her head and changes, before taking her time walking down the stairs. She pauses to see her father at the bottom of the staircase with a secretive grin on his lips. "You didn't tell me you were going to have friends over, Lilypad."

She frowns, mostly at the nickname, but also from confusion. "I'm not."

"He's in the sitting room," he smiles, patting her head before heading over to the kitchen.

Confused, she enters and becomes even more so when she sees James on her couch. "James?" He is beside her with his arms around her before she can even blink.

"I missed you," he whispers into her hair. "One week is too long, even with the letters."

"James, why -"

"I had this nightmare that you hated me again and the past month was just a dream and that when I woke up I reached out and you were with that _bloody_ Brian Creevy and you had no idea what I was talking about and I know that's ridiculous and I know I should know better but I'd Apparated here before I'd even realized what I was doing and - " he stops, exhales, forces a chuckle. "I sound ridiculous, don't I?"

He looks worried sick. She surveys him, and realizes that he looks…horrible. Tired, like he was having sleepless nights, stressed, drawn out, _desperate_ –

"You missed me," she whispers, her voice full of marvel and wonderment.

He softens. "Yes, I did."

There's this feeling in her chest that grows bigger, starting from her heart and spreading all around over her body and –

"I love you," she whispers. It's the first time she's said it, out loud, and she doesn't know why, but she feels like crying.

His eyes widen, and his grip tightens, and he pulls her slowly to his chest.

And Lily is crying, and she doesn't even know why, but she feels like she's given him something that she'll never get back, and she's saying goodbye to a part of her that has been a part of her for six years –

And he's saying _I love you_ to her, over and over and over again. And Merlin, it isn't normal how happy she is, how sad she is, how utterly _his_ she is, but that's just the way things are, and she supposes that even the fact that it happened in her parents' parlor was simply something that happened when she was with James Potter.

They just stand there, silent for a moment.

"Happy Christmas, Lily."

She presses herself deeper into him, tightens her grip on his neck and burrows her face into his neck. And for the first time ever in six years: "Happy Christmas, James."

**.**

**.**

**Present Day**

**.**

**.**

_6:13:pm.13:05:1979_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

"What section of the Ministry are they a part of that they're above Auror Jurisdiction?"

Moody raises a calm eyebrow. "You shouldn't pry, and anyway, they won't talk."

Sirius glances over at the two 'operatives,' who had, as a matter of fact, refused to show any response to the fantastic display of wandless magic James had caused. All the things in the room had shuddered violently for about ten seconds before he had gotten himself under control and Disapparated without a word. "There are cases for Penelope Turner and Lily Evans, Moody. Unresolved Files. We have opportunity -"

"This isn't a regular case, Black," Moody says, shaking his head. "This discussion is finished."

"This discussion has barely even begun!" Sirius explodes. "Do you honestly believe that Lily Evans can reappear into the lives of everyone who loved her without hell breaking loose?"

"I'm not going to _be_ Lily Evans," the redhead drawls out, sharing a look with her colleague. Suddenly in her place is a blonde-haired statuesque beauty. "I'm going to be Amy Jensen." Even her voice has changed, and Sirius has to prevent himself from looking impressed.

Moody looks satisfied. "Miss Evans and Miss Turner are highly qualified. They will handle it with utmost…discretion." At this he gives both Lily and Penelope a look. "And you will kindly remind Mr. Potter that you and he and all your friends are, at least in terms of rank, inferior to these operatives, and any act of insubordination to their demands will be counted as an act of defiance against myself."

Sirius is adequately stunned. So is Pearson, who is still staring at Lily.

Turning away from the two, Moody beckons the two girls to come closer.

**.**

**.**

_6:21:pm.13:05:79_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

Penelope Turner knows that to the world it would appear that Lily Evans is not rattled. But she knows better. You spend two years in life-or-death situations with someone, and you eventually master their tells. Lily's were very subtle, but still obvious to the people who knew her. The fact that she was utterly still and barely breathing, coupled with her exacting nonchalance and almost cruelty told Penelope that Lily was, as a matter of fact, very troubled and rather nervous.

_Please don't crack_, she begs silently.

**.**

**.**

_6:22:pm.13:05:79_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

_Focus on the job and not the person, and you're bound to do all right. _

Lily repeats this maxim to herself over and over again, hoping that this time will be the time it will sink in, hoping that this time she will be able to forget the look in James' eyes when she appeared on his fiancée's couch, hoping, above all, that she had not just ruined his chance of happiness with Pearson.

Moody is talking.

She should focus.

"Evans, Sara is confident this will work."

She nods. She has no idea why Sara thought this would work. Frankly, the entire scheme is preposterous. One does not throw the lamb in front of a lion and still remain confident that things will work.

Moody pauses, and his magical eye rolls around in its socket. "And so am I. Do what has to be done, and say what has to be said to Potter without breaking your oath." He studies her. "Give him the release that he needs and cut him loose." Pause. "For Merlin's sake, Evans: cut yourself loose."

She nods tersely and wipes a rather sweaty palm on her jeans.

"He's getting married in _three days_," Moody says harshly. "Finish this."

Lily swallows and grips her wand tighter. "Yes, sir."

**.**

**.**

_6:31:pm.13:05:79_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

"Black – find Potter and Lupin and bring them here," Penelope says authoritatively, taking charge because she knows that Lily is currently in the bathroom, trying to regain her bearings. She doesn't give Sirius a chance to complain, just raises an eyebrow at him. He leaves the room angrily muttering under his breath. Penelope turns to Pearson. "Miss Cooper, we'll have to discuss…" she looks around in dissatisfaction, "your living arrangements."

"What about them?" Pearson questions hesitantly.

"I can't ward a property this big by tonight, and honestly, it'll be a waste of time because it's only three days. We'll have to relocate you." She purses her lips and studies the petite blonde. "Do you have a smaller place?"

Pearson nods. "Greyhound Cove. It's a cottage in the suburbs."

"Well, pack up. We're moving there tonight. Oh, stay still for a second."

Pearson barely has time to stiffen before Penelope has begun circling her and muttering spells, encasing Pearson in blue light.

"I'm done," Penelope says brightly, opening up her packet of gum and popping another one into her mouth. "You can pack up now." She knows she's speaking rather condescendingly, but she can't help it. Testing people is part of her nature…and it pleased her, almost, to see the blonde stand up for herself.

"Look, I respect that you're just doing your job," Pearson says sharply, "but at least be human enough to realize that this is a huge shock for us, and we are severely unhappy with the situation. So I'd appreciate if you were a bit more sensitive."

A smile curls around her lips. "You know what, Cooper?" She walks right up to the girl who is marrying her best friend's ex-boyfriend. To Pearson's credit, she doesn't back down. "I totally get why Lily was friends with you." She laughs at the stunned expression on Pearson's face. "But seriously: go get packed."

**.**

**.**

_6:39:pm.13:05:79_

_Library, Pearson Mansion_

Lily emerges from the bathroom with a confident smile plastered on her face. "You shouldn't push people like that."

Penelope snorts and casts a _Muffliato_. "I couldn't help it. How does she even live with herself? She was your friend, and now she's marrying your ex-boyfriend? Does that not scream 'bitch' to you?"

"Sensitive, Pen. And mature," Lily says wryly, rolling her eyes and studying the bookshelves. "Pearson is sweet. I don't…I was gone for two years, so I don't blame them."

Penelope surveys her with interest and disdain. "Why are you lying to me? It's not like I can't handle the truth."

Lily is silent for a moment, before she turns her head to her friend. "You tell something to yourself often enough…you start to believe it."

Penelope studies the floor for a bit. "You've been telling yourself that for two years. How's that been working for you?"

Lily smiles, shrugs, turns back to the shelf. "Hasn't worked yet."

"You owe me a story, Evans."

Silence.

"You owe me a story," she enunciates clearly. Pauses. "Gavinsky, too."

"Why bother with the details?" Lily says softly, moving towards the window. "I already know how this story ends."

"How?"

Lily stares out the window as Remus Lupin, Sirius Black and James Potter Apparate onto the Cooper lawn. "The prince gets over his first love and marries someone else, and they all live happily ever after."

**.**

**.**

_6:11:pm.13:05:79_

James Potter wants to kill someone.

He wants to wave his wand and wreak havoc and break something.

Because just a few minutes ago, for the first time in two years, he'd looked into Lily Evans' eyes.

And they'd been completely indifferent.

Cold.

Like she couldn't give a damn.

At most, she'd looked mildly amused.

He'd hated her then.

Hated himself, for his seemingly eternal wait.

Hated how, even with Pearson beside him, his pulse had jumped and his heart had expanded in his chest just at the sight of her.

And she had just sat there, saying, feeling, revealing nothing.

**.**

**.**

_6:47:pm.13:05:79_

_Grounds, Pearson Mansion_

"We only have two rules as your bodyguards," Penelope announces, holding two fingers up and wiggling them, like they were unable of counting. She brings her hand down and smiles. "One: you tell no one we exist. You can rant to each other about how atrociously awful we are, but you tell anyone anything about us and we will prove how very unpleasant we can be." She winks at them before gesturing to Lily.

Lily is quieter, but somehow even crueler in her silent indifference. "Two, you obey us without question. We say stay, you stay; we say Disapparate, you Disapparate; we say get behind us, you get behind us; we say _let us die for you_ – and you will get out of our way and let us do our damned jobs." She smiles. "Are we clear?"

"Perfect," Penelope exclaims, after five seconds of utter silence, before clapping her hands. "Miss Cooper and I shall relocate to Greyhound Cove. Black comes with us to help us set up. Lily will go and test the wards at the boys' apartment. Move it."

**.**

**.**

_5:42:pm.13:05:79_

_Headquarters, Paris_

"Shut _up_, Piandre."

"I didn't bloody say anything," Piandre protests. But weakly, because he knows what Gavinsky meant.

Gavinsky looks over at Penelope's partner, a French Pureblood extremely good at disappearing and taking things with him (stealing). "Well I swear I can bloody hear you thinking."

Piandre sighs. He likes Gavinsky, but honestly the bloke drives him mad sometimes. "They're strong girls. Have some faith in them."

"I do," Gavinsky says vehemently. "It's the rest of the fucking world I don't trust."

"Welcome to the club…" Piandre's eyes reflect some surprise as he surveys the monitor. "Gavinsky."

Gavinsky looks over at the monitor and sighs, even while he shrugs his coat on and changes appearances. "I hate Losky."

"He's an informant," the Frenchman shrugs. To him, and indeed, to the team, that was all that mattered. Vile though they might be, the backstabbing creatures gave them something they needed. "Need back-up?"

Gavinsky gives him a look. "Watch the monitor. Kill me before they capture me."

He turns back to the monitor. "_Oui_."

**.**

**.**

_7:11:pm.13:05:79_

_Apartment_

After casting a Muffliato charm, James staggers into the couch and runs his fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes and grips his hair.

_If James lost a hair every time he ruffled his hair_, Remus reflects, _he would most likely be bald by now. _However, Remus looks past the Living Room and up the stairs, where a certain Lily Evans is walking around and 'testing wards' and ruefully thinks that if James keeping his sanity meant he would yank on his hair every five seconds, he'd gladly take it.

Remus decides to break the silence. "She's – different."

James looks at him.

Remus backtracks with a sigh. "She's a rude, condescending and unfeeling doppleganger of Lily Evans." He pauses. "But it's still Lily Evans. Prongs -"

"Like I was nothing, Moony," he interrupts. "Like she didn't care at all that she'd up and left me without an explanation. Like she didn't even…_remember_ – like I wasn't worth her time, much less her affection. Like I was nothing. Like _we_ were nothing."

"We don't know what she's been doing. We don't know her reasons for leaving, or for acting like this. Mad-Eye himself said that they weren't allowed -"

"He didn't say they weren't allowed. He said they wouldn't. There's a difference."

"Because they're not allowed to! Sirius said it himself," Remus says in frustration, "When Moody said discretion, he gave the girls a look, and it meant that -"

"It didn't mean anything!"

"Sirius is very good at reading people, James. And if he thought there was something fishy about the situation -"

"What if she really just doesn't care anymore?" James interrupts. He looks up at his best friend and raises his eyebrows, barely concealing the pain in his eyes.

Remus flinches. It was like they were in Hogwarts all over again. Lily was rejecting James' advances and causing James to be hideously insecure...except they weren't schoolchildren anymore. This was real life, and in real life people grew up and got married and mistakes were far more permanent. If Lily was playing a game, did she realize she was toying with hearts? Was she really that different that she could ignore such things? The questions thunder around his head.

"What if," James swallows, "she just didn't love me enough back then and doesn't love me now? What then, Moony?"

Remus wants to tell James that everything will be all right. That of course Lily will tell them what happened and things will be resolved. That they'll fall in love again. But he can't lie. Not to James, and not about something this important. He takes a deep breath. "Then you move on. You get married."

James recoils, whether in disgust at marrying someone other than Lily or realizing his betrayal to Pearson, Remus never knew.

"You don't forget, but maybe one day you'll forgive."

"I need to know."

Remus stares at him. "What do you mean?"

"We're not dealing with this logically because we don't have enough facts," James whispers, sliding his eyes shut. He presses his temples. "If Lily left me because she didn't love me enough, then I'll cross that bridge. I'll move on." He opens his eyes to look at Remus.

_Uh oh_, Remus thinks. _I know that look_.

"But what if there was some other reason? What if Sirius is right, and she was bound by something we don't know about?"

Remus internally sighs. But he's been with James Potter through everything else – and James has done the same for him. So how can he abandon him now? He nods. "Let's find out. But how?"

James looks to the stairs before sliding his gaze back to Remus. A small smile is playing at the corners of his lips. "We make her crack."

**.**

**.**

_8:14:pm.13:05:79_

_Greyhound Cove_

"So what are you, really?"

Penelope slides her gaze to Sirius Black contemplatively. "You are one persistent bugger."

He repeats the question.

She sighs and checks her wandwork. "I'm a highly ranked operative."

"Like Moody," Sirius concludes.

Penelope laughs. "Not quite." She surveys the house and concludes that no one would be able to get through this. "Miss Cooper, you'll be safe here for the night."

"Aren't you supposed to be with me at all times?"

She studies the girl for a good minute. Then she asks for her arm.

Pearson is puzzled, and wary. "What?"

She nods at her arm. "Pull up your sleeve, please."

"Why?"

"Do I have to remind you of rule number two?"

Pearson scowls a little, but complies nevertheless.

Penelope stares hard at the girl, before sighing. "Oh, Circe Almighty…" She closes her eyes, takes Pearson's wrist and begins muttering furiously in French. At first it seems like nothing is happening, but after a few minutes, a butterfly peels itself off Penelope's neck, flutters around for a few seconds, before melting into Pearson's wrist. Penelope looks significantly exhausted, but quite satisfied at the result.

Pearson looks confused. "I…a tattoo?"

"A magical binding," Sirius says quietly, his eyes never wavering from the pale pink butterfly. "You'll be safe with it, Pearson. I think I'd better take Turner home."

After a cheerful 'Don't leave the house until I get here tomorrow at seven!' from Penelope, the two Disapparate.

**.**

**.**

_8:34:pm.13:05:79_

_An apartment_

When Penelope walks into the boys' parlor, Lily's eyes widen. "You didn't."

Penelope sighs and rubs her eyes. "Lily, don't."

"We're going home," Lily announces, her eyes still trained on her friend. "Now. Potter, don't leave this house until I get here tomorrow at seven." She moves to her friend's side quickly before attempting to Disapparate.

Her wand wouldn't work.

"What in…" she trails off and looks up. James' wand is pointed directly at her. "Why are you preventing me from leaving?"

"Isn't that a loaded question?" James sneers. "But I refuse to let you leave until you tell me what exactly happened to Turner."

Lily blinks. "You refuse to _let_ me leave?"

James smirks and keeps his wand trained on her. "Does that irk you, Evans? But yes. Obviously, she has done something that has exhausted her. And as she was in my fiancée's house, I feel the need to know what exactly it was that she did."

"She set up wards, you insufferable bastard! To protect your to-be wife! Now get your wand out of my face, or so help me I will -"

"What?"

Lily's eyes narrow dangerously. "Do not test me, Potter."

"Turner bound herself to Pearson to protect her."

Everyone hears Remus' intake of breath.

Sirius voice is quiet and calm, and his grey eyes are focused on the two operatives. "I saw it myself."

James' eyes shift to the girl who is still miraculously standing. "Why would you do that?"

Penelope leans a little on Lily, but still manages to support herself. "Because I do my jobs well, Potter. No need for a thank you, really," she says, mild sarcasm creeping into her tone, "but I'd like to go home."

James lets his arm drop. "Forgive me, Turner." He pauses. "Thank you for going to such lengths. I…appreciate it."

Penelope shoots him a tired grin. "Don't get yourself killed while we're gone."

They vanish.

**.**

**.**

_8:42:pm.13:05:79_

_Headquarters, Paris_

"Oh, for Circe's sake," Piandre mumbles, before rushing over to support his partner. "Woman, vous me rendez fous."

Penelope sags against her partner. "Shut up and take me home…Wait!" She turns her head to look at Lily and Gavinsky. "Bring me back."

"Hobble you back, you mean," he mutters, but following her anyway.

She stops in front of Lily and smiles, almost triumphantly. "I get it now. How you could walk away from them."

Lily laughs, but only a little, and only with some regret.

"They're so…" she thinks for a bit before finally settling on a word, "_good_. They have so many flaws…but they're good. I understand how you could – what is that saying? – love them enough to let them go." She reaches out and places her fingertips on Lily's cheek.

"You didn't have to." Lily leaves the words _bind yourself to her_ unsaid. But Penelope knows, all the same.

"I know." She pauses, before smiling. "I – wanted to. Wanted to help them."

Lily feels the corners of her lip lifting upwards. Just a little. But still: a smile. "They're good people. I didn't deserve them."

Penelope shakes her head. "If I'd had them," she says conspiratorially, "and they'd loved me like they love you…I wouldn't have been unselfish enough to do it. You're good too, Lily Evans. To the bone." She smiles, and this time it is sad. "I wish the good didn't have to suffer."

"Hey, I met you," Lily reminds her. "I'm lucky here, too." _Loved here, too._

Penelope nods and closes her eyes. "Take care of her Gavinsky. There are others…" she yawns a little, "who'd take her from us in a heartbeat."

**.**

**.**

_8:49:pm.13:05:79_

_Headquarters, Paris_

"Take care of her Gavinsky. There are others who'd take her from us in a heartbeat."

_You think I don't know that?_ The man thinks to himself quietly as the two disappear. He sighs and turns to the bane of his existence and apparent love of his life. "Come on, Evans. Let's go home."

She slips her hand into his, and then, they too are gone.

**.**

**.**

_8:49:pm.13:05:79_

"What do you reckon is going to happen?"

Moody's face in the fire is scowling, but then, Moody is always scowling.

Sara stares out of her window, where two of her best and brightest are holding hands. She wonders how it feels to love so much and so openly, and to have so many love you back in the same way.

"I wish they would end up together," she hears herself saying wistfully.

Moody's eyes betray his mild surprise. "Who are we talking about, Sara? Gavinsky and Evans or…"

She sighs. "I don't know. I have a feeling though that," she pauses to give Moody a look, "they're…planning something. The others."

"They'll be killed first."

Sara laughs, like he has just said the most ridiculous thing she has ever heard. "Oh, Mad-Eye. Mon petit canard…they are Quest Team operatives. Ils n'ont pas peur de la mort. Few things they are afraid of – death least of all."

**.**

**.**

_12:07:pm.19:02:77_

_Great Hall, Hogwarts_

"I had a dream last night that I was part of the Quest Team," Sirius says one afternoon at Lunch.

"Urban legend," Dorcas dismisses, stuffing her face with chicken. "Honestly, Black, I thought you were smarter than that."

James, who was up until then creating a cream puff fort with Peter, says, "It _could_ exist. All the stories have to originate somewhere."

Remus rolls his eyes. "Then how come I've searched every book in the Library and there seems to be nothing on them?"

"The Quest Team is supposed to be this deeply guarded secret," Frank puts in. "Not very secret if they're in books, are they?"

"But surely some _evidence_ must be around?" Alice questions, prodding her boyfriend to pass her syrup.

"Right," Peter agrees, eying the tower, "no way that there is no record whatsoever."

At this point Lily breaks in, looking extremely curious. "What in heaven's name is the Quest Team?"

Seven heads swivel to face her in mild shock.

"Well, she is a Muggle," Alice says quickly. "It really is no wonder she hasn't heard about it. Them. It."

"Well, love," Sirius says, throwing an arm around Lily's waist, "I think we ought to do the honors of introducing you to some of our word-of-mouth wizard folklore." He waggles his eyebrows.

Dorcas rolls her eyes. "Don't _traumatize_ her, Black."

"I will not. James would eviscerate me," he announces.

Lily shoots James a look. He shrugs.

"But I want to be the one who tells," Sirius continues.

All the other six lean towards him a bit in anticipation, food and food forts forgotten for a while. Lily tilts her head to the side and wonders what exactly is this Team and how it is that she has never heard of them before.

With the drama, self-importance and knowledge characteristic of any Sirius Black story, he clears his throat and begins:

"There's a story about this secret government organization that does the most dastardly, dangerous, and daring deeds that the Ministry will not – or _cannot_ – do. The Team recruits the best and brightest of the Wizarding World and trains them to become better than best. Their training is brutal but efficient, because at the end of it all, they become masters at magic, deception and espionage. It's said there are only ten operatives at any one time, headed by one Quest Keeper, who is chosen once every generation. These eleven…they're spies, they're assassins, they're the most talented scum that ever walked the earth…

"These eleven are the Quest Team."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was more of a building up chapter. (Oh, alright, it was a filler. _Don't shoot me_.) But seriously, I needed to set up certain...things before I went on. **

**As always, feedback is appreciated. (And, you know, encourages me to write faster.)**

_P.S. Two questions: _

_(1) What do you guys think of The Quest Team? XD_

_(2) Is anyone rooting for Gavinsky? _


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N: **

**There is always a sheet of paper. There is always a pen. There is always a way out. (H.L. Mencken)**

**Whether you read, or write, or both, I hope you enjoy this chapter. When things get too heavy,_ this is our way out_. **

* * *

**.**

**.**

**January 1977**

**.**

**.**

After her confession, things are different.

She doesn't really know how, can't really explain – it isn't tangible, isn't quantifiable. The difference is barely even there, and it certainly isn't observable.

But she loves him.

And he knows.

And it's different.

**.**

**.**

He has taken to saying it out loud.

Not often, not in front of large groups of people – not even in front of their friends.

But he says it.

Fervently, and usually in a moment like this, when she's simply sprawled on the Head Commons rug with her books and ink bottle and parchments surrounding her.

"I love you."

Startled, she looks up.

He's by the entrance, and he's wearing his Quidditch uniform, and he's sweaty and gross and tired.

He's beautiful.

She softens.

"I love you, too."

**.**

**.**

The first time they say it front of an audience is an accident.

She says it was his fault for precipitating The Incident. He maintains it was hers.

It's a Heads and Prefects meeting, and they're all having some fun with the idea of a Let's-Have-A-Holiday-Just-Because-We-Can-Holiday-Day. Professor Dumbledore is all for the event.

James suggests that to boost student morale, they hold such an event on a biweekly basis.

Naturally, there are hoots and cheers from the more fun-loving prefects.

Lily rolls her eyes and tells him he is absolutely preposterous.

He winks and rebuts with: "You know you love me."

Lily's answer causes a thundering silence amongst their peers. "Merlin knows why, but yes, I do."

Remus gapes.

Mulciber gapes. (This is followed by a sneer, but originally, he gaped.)

_Everyone_ gapes.

And at opposite heads of the table, James Potter and Lily Evans stare at each other. James shakes himself from his shock first.

_I love you_, he mouths, throwing the words to her like a lifeline.

She's scared – it's public – it's _too much_ – but she does love him – and he loves her – Merlin, did he love her – and bugger, _screw public opinion_. Screw the gossip, screw the hoots and catcalls, screw the impending doom and gloom and shock. Screw the I-told-you-so's and the awkwardness of officially being together.

She loves James Potter.

James Potter loves her.

James Potter _loves_ her.

Right there and then she realizes that as long as that is true, she can take everything and anything else.

**.**

**.**

**Present Day**

**.**

**.**

_5:42:pm.13:05:79_

_A park in Paris_

The man is preposterously hairy, Alexander thinks. He is bearded with sideburns and a thick head of hair that protruded in all directions and made him look like a mad scientist, which was just as well, because people stayed away from people who looked mad…people left them alone. So when one reached out to them, they felt a little bit appreciated and flattered – and then they told secrets. Golden little beautiful secrets, so precious to an organization like theirs.

"Mr. Losky," Alexander says silkily, smiling at him. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

The man jumps a little, as he ought. There was something a bit…off about Alexander Hale. Something a bit too smooth and practiced to be safe, something that made Losky's considerable amount of arm hair stand on end…but Alexander was nice, unlike so many of the others. So when he asked for news, Losky gave him news. It was nothing, after all, compared to the rewards he was given.

So he takes his wand – and gives Alexander a memory.

**.**

**.**

_1:14:am.14:05:79_

_Paris_

"Confringo!"

Lily jumps up and throws out a shield before she's even consciously aware of it. The sleep has been wiped away by fear and determination and…"Damn you, Gavinsky," she groans, throwing herself back into the couch. "I was actually sleeping peacefully for a change."

He snorts and in typical Gavinsky fashion collapses right beside her and tries to piss her off further. "No one in the team sleeps peacefully, Evans. Merlin's beard, it took you two seconds to put up a shield – that's not peaceful, that's fucked up."

She glares at him with eyes that are crusty from sleep. "Leave me alone."

Realizing she is now sufficiently angry, he plows forward. "So how was meeting the ex?" he says flippantly.

She sighs. "Terrible."

"You're used to terrible."

"Atrocious."

"Just?"

She scowls. "Worse than that time they threw us into the Baltic Sea without our wands."

Gavinsky blinks. "Well – I told you so."

She sighs. "He looked betrayed. Which made sense, because I did betray him."

He scoffs. "You are many things, Evans, but disloyal is not on the list."

"He still makes my blood boil. I swear when he wouldn't let Pen and I leave I wanted to hex him into five years from now."

"Well, the nice thing about making threats like that is that now you can actually do it." He almost smiles. "And of course he'll make your blood boil. You're in love with him." Gavinsky waggles his eyebrows at her, and she laughs.

"Well…stupid, right?" She looks at him. "To love him, even after all this time?"

Gavinsky looks at her and tilts his head to the side and laughs a little. He has no idea what she wants from him – confirmation or rejection. Either way, she'll get her heart broken. After all, she loved them now, too.

"Love? What do you think I know about love, Evans?"

_What could I possibly teach you about love? _

_You, who loves so much you fracture your soul and give away the pieces?_

_Me, who only knew love when I gave up my life?_

_What could _I_ teach _you_?_

"Something," she says blackly, a faint smile crossing her lips. "_Your_ heart isn't broken."

He hesitates for a split second. But really, what has he got to lose?

"You think that's something I'm proud of?"

Then he stands up and tells her to go back to sleep. But of course she doesn't. She just stares after him, mildly stunned.

**.**

**.**

_4:15:am.14:05:79_

_Paris_

"Wake up."

She stumbles off the couch, instantly alert, wand at the ready. "What is it now, Gavinsky?" she says, irritated. If he'd woken her up for something useless…She looks behind him, and her irritation turns to confusion. "Why are you analyzing memories at four in the morning?"

"Losky stopped by with a memory. I watched it earlier, but it's only now…" He looks back at the paused memory with a strange look on his face. "Watch it with me."

**.**

**.**

_4:29:am.14:05:79_

_Paris_

Gavinsky waves his wand and pauses the memory. "What can you tell me?"

Lily looks up from her position on the couch, raises an eyebrow. "You're the expert. There's nothing I can tell you that you don't already know."

He shrugs. "I'd like a second opinion."

She sighs, stares at the frozen memory. "Well – obviously, it's been altered. The fuzzy strips around the edges, the strange folds – no true memory has that. But the strange thing is I don't think Losky knew it."

"Which means?"

"Which means Losky was genuinely trying to help us," and at this point Gavinsky has to chuckle at a sentence that had 'Losky' and 'genuine' at the same time, which causes Lily to throw him a look, which he just makes a face at, which she ignores, and so continues, "he just hadn't realized that his memory had been…changed. He's averagely stupid, according to our profiling, which makes it highly possible that he's had memory charms worked on him without him even realizing it or feeling anything wrong."

"Good."

She looks up. "Really?" Skeptically, because she knows that when it comes to such things as memory – well, Gavinsky was _the_ expert in the field.

"When I say good, I meant you got it about fifty percent right."

She scoffs and slumps into the couch, realizing she should've known better. "Alright, then. Amaze me."

He smirks at her. "You were right – fuzzy strips and folds indicate that this memory has, in fact, been tampered with. What you didn't mention is that these three strips here," he points to the three strips in question, so miniscule Lily hadn't even bothered to count, "indicate something different."

"What?"

"This memory hasn't just been changed." He gives her a significant look. "It's been created."

She straightens out. "_Creating_ a memory?"

He nods. "Our personal profiling is wrong. Losky isn't _averagely_ stupid – he's _insanely_ so. At least in the fifth percentile of the Wizarding population. This made him an easy target. Stupid people are less likely to question the existence of a brand new idea inside their own head." He says this with mild distaste, but gets over his disappointment in humanity relatively quickly. "Fast forward to the fact that he's a spy for us…"

"They know he's a spy for us?"

Gavinsky scoffs. "Well, of course."

Lily purses her lips. "You've been busy."

He shrugs. "I got bored. Where was I?" He pauses. "Oh, yes: they know he gives us information, so they decide to use it to their advantage. They're trying to feed us wrong information, just like they tried to do with the others. False data, so we'd guard the Potter wedding heavily, when in fact, something else is going on that very day, but of course we're too distracted to know about it."

Lily leans forward and studies first the memory, then her partner. "What's the something else?"

He sighs. "I don't know yet."

"That was terribly anticlimactic."

"Well – give me time. Now go to sleep. You look like crap."

She would've flipped him the bird – but she was just too tired.

**.**

**.**

_5:28:am.14.05.1979_

_Paris_

Her eyes snap open.

"Oh, bloody hell!"

She's gone.

**.**

**.**

_5:29:am.14.05.1979_

_Potter apartment_

"Where in Merlin's name do you think you're going?"

Lily barrels into the foyer, where James is shrugging on a coat. He looks at her. "Out."

"At five-thirty in the morning?"

He raises his eyebrows. "Evidently." Pause. "You look like crap."

That was the second time in two hours that she'd been told she looked like crap. She attempts to check her temper. "What part of 'I-am-your-bodyguard' don't you understand, Potter?"

"So I'm back to Potter," James comments, buttoning his coat. His lips twist into a sardonic grin, before he answers: "I think it's the 'your' and the 'bodyguard,' although frankly the 'I' is quite puzzling as well."

She exhales. "You're not allowed to go anywhere without me."

"What should I have done – rang a bell for you, perhaps? I had no way of contacting you." And the unsaid breathes and takes up the space between them: _I have had no way of contacting you for the past two years._

She ignores it. "Moody said you leave the house at seven. It made sense that I didn't have to be here until then."

"Why not?"

"Because the house is safe and – irrelevant, Potter! You're not allowed to go anywhere without me. So unless you want me to be shackled to your damn wrist for the next three days I suggest you follow orders and don't make this any more difficult than it has to be."

He looks at her. "Heaven forbid this gets any _more_ difficult."

She exhales, and decides to try sincerity. "Look – I can protect you, Potter. I _can_. But I can't protect you if I'm not there."

"Yet here you are."

She wants to scream.

"Evans," he says, his eyes laughing a little (mocking her a little), "Relax. I knew you'd be here. I knew you put a Charm on me and I knew you'd come."

"You knew you'd disturb and provoke me!" she accuses.

"You're my bodyguard," he says innocently – except no one with a smirk like that could _ever_ be branded as innocent. "Aren't I supposed to be able to?"

She gapes at him like a fish, and feels her blood boiling. How is he _affecting_ her like this? Around everyone else she keeps a cool head – but around _him_

_Pull it together, Evans._

She exhales and pinches her nose. "Okay, where are you going at five thirty in the morning?"

"I felt like visiting some friends."

Lily resists the urge to screech 'five thirty in the morning' one more time. "You couldn't just Floo them?"

James pretends to think about it for a bit. "No, I had to see them in person."

"Fine. _Fine_. Let's go. But remember, Potter: go out of bounds even once and I will have you on house arrest faster than you can say 'Marauder.'"

He shrugs. "All right. But don't you think you should change into one of your aliases?"

She snorts.

He looks at her, and she's different.

She stays visible long enough for him to raise his eyebrows at how different she looks.

"Where'd you go?"

"Less questions if I'm invisible," she mutters. "Let's go."

**.**

**.**

_5:34:am.14.05.1979_

_Headquarters_

Harriet Plank does not look away from the monitor when he barges into the Control Room.

"What are you doing here so early?"

"Evans left a few minutes ago."

"She's at Potter's apartment."

"I figured."

Pause.

"How's our research?"

Harriet might have stiffened, but she was better than that. "There's no precedent."

"So?"

"So it's dangerous."

"That's not what I'm asking."

She sighs. "I can't say, conclusively."

"But?"

"But based on gut feel – it's possible."

A smile plays on his lips. "I knew it."

"Supremely dangerous, possibly life-threatening and life-ruining. We can't predict what will happen if we tamper with so many – but it's possible."

**.**

**.**

_5:38:am.14.05.1979_

"You don't Apparate with a pop," he observes. To a random passerby it would appear that James Potter was talking to himself.

"It's stealthier."

He nods. The action jars his glasses a little off his nose and he pushes it back up. "I reckon you need a lot of stealth, in your line of work."

She has to keep the suspicion from her voice. "What do you know about my line of work, Potter?"

He smiles. "Enough."

Then a door bursts open and a man walks in. Lily's eyes snap up. James had distracted her. _You're supposed to be _protecting_ him_, she snarls inwardly, _not..._chatting_ with him_. _Your idiocy could get both of you killed_. With that sobering thought, Lily decides to be mute for the rest of the day. She refocuses her attention to the situation at hand and her eyes widen when she realizes just who it is James is talking to.

"Hey, mate," James says easily, extending his hand. "Thanks for coming so early on such short notice."

"Yeah, Potter, no problem," the man says with equal ease, returning the shake.

Lily feels her heart rate pick up as she observes the obvious familiarity with the two. And when a girl walks into the room, Lily feels her calm resolve fly out the window.

"We figured it was wedding jitters," the girl says with a soft, kind smile, "and that you'd need all the help you could get."

"Thanks, Alice," James says, his hazel eyes glinting in the dim light, "I knew I could count on you."

**.**

**.**

_9:18:am.14.05.1979_

_Headquarters_

"Shit is hitting the fan," she observes.

She calls Gavinsky.

He comes in looking like Alexander. He looks mildly irritated. She'd pulled him from a job.

In response, she waves to the monitor.

"Why is he with _them_?"

She snorts.

He steps directly into her line of vision. "What do you know that I don't?"

"He's trying to break her." _Obviously_.

He frowns. "To what end?"

"Truth," she says simply. "And by the way – we might have a problem."

He looks at her.

"I think Sara knows."

Silence.

"Gut feel," she sighs.

"Aren't _you_ the fucking bearer of bad news today, Plank?"

**.**

**.**

_9:12:am.14:05:1979_

_Diagon Alley_

This is torture. She knows James is doing it on purpose – making her watch them, hear them, feel _this_ on purpose. Knows that while he is not allowed to tell others of her existence, that it does not mean that he will not take advantage of her presence to show her what she had done to the people who had loved – and apparently _still_ love – her.

So she watches James go through this parade of a day, where she gets to see Alice and Frank (married, now, and trying to get pregnant) and Dorcas (flying for the Harpies) and Peter (still so shy and fumbling and kind). She goes with him to a teashop to have early breakfast, and to dress shops to try to pacify Dorcas and to convince her to wear lavender, and to have a Firewhiskey at a bar.

And she feels the salt poured on her wounds as she feels how pained and worried sick they were – are – at her disappearance, how much they continually miss her.

She knows she should get angry.

Rationally, this is cruel.

This is manipulation of a situation that James knows she cannot control. But she allows it. Because she knows that James is hurting, too. And she knows he is trying to break her. And she knows that while he is marrying one of her friends, he still loves her. And it is ripping him apart to love two people like that.

So she allows it.

She stays quiet, stays patient, just _stays_ – and listens. Hears Alice whisper that if Lily were around, she would want you to be happy. Hears Dorcas say that although Pearson can't hold a candle to Lily (no offense to Pearson, seriously) we can't put our lives on hold forever…and she's happy for James, if this is really what James wants. Hears Peter offer Draught of Living Death in case he's still having the nightmares.

Hears them all tell James that it's okay. It'll be all right. We all wonder where Lily went. We all relive those days and wonder what we could have done to protect her. We all blame ourselves too often to be healthy. And we all have nightmares, and wake up in the middle of the night screaming for Lily to run.

We always stop when we hear the name 'Lily' or 'Evans' or see a redhead scuttle past. We always scan the news with hope, continually wishing that something good would surface.

But it's been two years. Two years, James. And Lily would want you to be happy. Lily would want you to move on. Lily _loved_ you, James, and she wouldn't want you to pine after her for the rest of your life.

So love Pearson, James.

Marry Pearson.

It's okay.

It'll be all right.

Lily would have – well, she would have understood.

**.**

**.**

_10:27:am.14:05:1979_

_Potter apartment_

James Potter is tired.

He feels like there's a weight pressing down on his chest, bricks on his shoulders.

He can't breathe.

She is suffocating him.

He dismisses Lily Evans with the promise that he will stay in the apartment. And yes, he won't do anything stupid.

When she Disapparates as quietly as she had come, he sinks to the foot of the stairs and wonders how on earth he is supposed to move on from the only girl who could ever make him feel like this.

**.**

**.**

_10:28:am.14:05:1979_

_Paris_

She was a witch of astounding capability. Her charms work was renowned throughout Europe, and she was called on by some of the greatest witches and wizards of the their time to safeguard their properties, secrets, and lives. She was a brilliant tactician whose plans, when followed to the hilt, always achieved what she had set out for them to do. And she was a gifted imposter, a girl who could change identities and personalities and entire lives at the drop of a hat, who gained through her many selves information necessary to win a war.

But at the end of it all, she was a girl who loved a boy.

So for the first time in a very long time, Lily Evans locks herself into a bathroom, slides to the floor – and cries.

**.**

**.**

_10:29:am.21:12:1976_

_Heads' Common Room_

James launches himself over the couch and collapses in front of his girlfriend, who is sprawled on the rug and studiously finishing some homework due in, oh, _two weeks_. "Hey, Evans."

Ignoring him, she continues scrawling words on her parchment.

"It's a beautiful day outside," he hints. "Really cold. Perfect for a snowball fight. Sledding. Skating. _Fun_ things like that."

"That's very nice, James. Go ahead. I'm sure you'll have a lovely time with the rest of the Marauders." She looks up at him and sends him a charming grin. "You might even get Frank, Alice and Dorcas to join you."

He frowns. "I don't want Frank, Alice and Dorcas," he whines petulantly.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," she reproaches.

"I want _you_."

She grins slightly to herself.

James sighs, knowing he has just had his pride battered, but worse, not really caring. Whipped? Yes, he was. "Come on, Evans. It'll be fun."

Lily looks outside the window. "It looks really frigid."

"That's what happens during winter," James explains cheekily. She rolls her eyes at him. "Besides, I'll cast a warming charm on you." He pauses. "Trust me, Evans. I'll take care of you." He holds her gaze.

Her cheeks tinge pink as she feels her heartbeat accelerate and her stomach roll – in a pleasant way. She swallows and glances at the huge pile of work she has to do.

"Come on, Evans," he whispers, reaching out and taking her hand and knowing, just _knowing_, that she's giving in.

A small, small, _small_ smile creeps onto her face. She pulls her boots on and stands up and pulls him off the couch and they're both laughing. But before they can leave the Heads' Commons, she pulls his hand and consequently pulls him to the stop. "I do, you know."

He looks back at her. His brow furrows. "You do what?"

She steps forward and wraps her arms around his neck. "Trust you."

He stares at her, this beautiful wonderful girl-woman who is now (finally, finally, _finally_) his. And he knows it's been a long time, since his mother's death. But there's always been this weight pressing down on him since then, as if his mother's death forced him to realize he had to grow up, and grow up fast and well. He's always felt a myriad of pressure, and depression, and more expectations and duties than anyone will ever be able to comprehend. But that vanishes now, all of that. Staring at this redhead who is beautiful inside and out, who after years and years of being chased has finally allowed herself to be caught – he feels like the blocks of obligations have gone tumbling from his shoulders. He feels like for the first time in a ridiculously long time, he can breathe.

He leans forward to brush his lips against hers. "I love you, you know."

She smiles against his lips. "I know."

**.**

**.**

_10:49:am.14:05:1979_

_Paris_

Harriet forces him away when she sees a red dot appear at the apartment.

She was right to send him, because when he enters the bathroom, she's curled up on the floor and crying.

He sighs. On top of all the other crap –

"I _told_ you he'd break your heart."

And maybe that was cruel, saying something like that to someone who was broken. But the cruelty of the words was forgotten with the compassion of his following actions.

He slides beside her, curls an arm around her shoulder and lets her tears stain his perfectly pressed white pinpoint Oxford.

There is so much work to be done: there are lies to be told, lives to be altered, plans to be made, and memories to be stolen. But that is work for later.

Right now –

Right now, Mark Gavinsky lets Lily Evans to cry.

**.**

**.**

_3:57:am.15:05:79_

_Paris_

Lily's eyes snap open. She stumbles out of bed, exits her bedroom and enters his without announcing herself.

He's lying in bed, fully clothed, fully awake. Of _course_ he is.

"Morning," he says blandly.

"Show me the memory again," she says hoarsely. "I think I have it."

He raises his eyebrows, but doesn't ask. Instead, he plucks the bottle out of his front shirt pocket before expanding the memory. She studies it, her eyes red from yesterday's tears and this week's lack of sleep.

"You've missed something."

Suddenly he looks more awake. He looks at her sharply. "Excuse me?"

She smirks tiredly. "Whoever did this used a _memory charm_. While memory is your expertise, Gavinsky, kindly remember that charms are mine." She takes out her wand and prods it, before nodding. "December 13, 1973."

Gavinsky blinks. He gets out of bed, stands next to her, tries to see what she sees. "What about it?"

"What happened on December 13, 1973?"

"Well, let me think. There was a Hungarian Horntail that escaped while in transport and wreaked havoc on a Muggle town…there was the historic Quidditch match where the Cotton Feint was used for the first time -"

"Something _relevant_, Gavinsky," she says impatiently, shooting him a look. Honestly, the man stored so much rubbish in his head.

He frowns. "December 13, 1973…" He blinks. "A prisoner in Azkaban was taken, completely Obliviated, given a new set of memories and relocated to Scotland."

Lily smiles. "Which was part of what?"

Gavinsky frowns. "The Ministry's ridiculous Relocation Project."

She nods for him to continue.

"It backfired on them monstrously, turned out that the prisoners were being Obliviated of their former selves, and had ideas about them being Voldemort's lackeys implanted in their heads – why are you having me give you a history lesson, Evans?"

Lily twirls her wand around and continues examining the memory. "Who was the person who spearheaded that project?"

Silence, before: "_No_."

"Yes."

"You think she did this?" He gestures at the memory. "You think she was the one who toyed with Losky?"

Lily looks at her partner. "I'm almost positive she did." She pushes the memory back into the bottle, and shows it to him. "See the composition? Tinged slightly dark green, with a disturbing pale pink – it might as well be a calling card."

Gavinsky exhales. "Well, fuck."

Lily nods. "Fuck, indeed." She summons a file from her bedroom, flips it open and studies it, before sighing, tossing it on the table and turning it to face Gavinsky. "Victoria Prescott, later known to be the alias of one Bellatrix Lestrange, the so-called 'best lieutenant' of Voldemort himself. This is her handiwork. She changed and added to Losky's memories."

"Lestrange is not one to be assigned to menial tasks." Even Gavinsky has grown grave, knowing now, who exactly they were dealing with.

"She's not. And she's not working alone."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know," Lily admits, studying the memory carefully. "I've cross-referenced the pattern in my head with all the cases of memory creation that I know, but I've come up with nothing, except that it's most likely male."

"How'd you even – you know what, forget it, I trust you." He sighs, rubs his nose. "We have to go to Sara."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

**.**

**.**

_4:17:am.15:05:79_

_Headquarters_

Sara already knew.

Lily and Gavinsky settled back into their seats with matching looks of betrayal written on their faces.

"Well, I didn't have it confirmed – but yes, I knew."

Gavinsky looks at her with some reproach on his face. "How?"

Sara sighs and leans forward on her desk. "Oh, cheri…you don't want to know how I know that. Regardless, I'm terribly glad that we've had it confirmed, because now I can act on what I knew."

Lily and Gavinsky exchange glances.

"You know what's going to happen, don't you?" Lily questions. "The something else?"

Sara licks her lips and sighs. "Well – yes. But I'm afraid I'm not the right person to explain it to you."

Underneath his cloak, Gavinsky grips his wand. _Someone's here._

"Evans, you already know him. Gavinsky, I'm certain you've heard of him. Both of you, please – don't do anything rash." She looks at the door to her office. "You can come in now."

The door clicks open.

"Thank you for allowing me to come around, Sara. It really has been too long."

The wizard at the door causes Lily to _almost_ drop her wand and Gavinsky to blink. Twice.

Sara's eyes are twinkling. "Oh, Albus. You know my door is always open for you."

* * *

**A/N:**

**1**

**I am a Lily/James girl at heart. Keep that in mind – and have some faith. I cannot promise a perfectly happy ending – because I'm trying to write a version of reality, and there are no perfectly happy endings in reality. But sometimes you get _really_ close. Remember that, too. :)**

**2**

**Gavinsky is of a rare breed, don't you think?**

**But then: so if James.**

**3**

**I love this story. I won't abandon it. And when my diligence or muse staggers, it is you – the people who favorite, and follow, and review – who urge me to keep on going.**

**Thank you.**

**I love and appreciate any feedback (even criticism) that you might care to give.**


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